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They Say we're all Just apples on trees. The best ones are on top, at the peak. They sit there and look down hoping one day, someone will come up and just try to reach. The good ones are always on the top– hoping that one day they'll be loved. Offer all themselves, ask not too much. But it seems that the lovers don't want such. They seem too scared to go ahead and climb. Make the rotten ones the apple of their eyes. Get hurt and wonder why they've become blind. And the good ones look at all of this and cry. Asking, how far am I up the apple tree, for it to be so hard to be picked? How far must I fall from the tree, For love to come and let me feel it?
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Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
The apple tree...
They Say we're all Just apples on trees. The best ones are on top, at the peak. They sit there and look down hoping one day, someone will come up and just try to reach. The good ones are always on the top– hoping that one day they'll be loved. Offer all themselves, ask not too much. But it seems that the lovers don't want such. They seem too scared to go ahead and climb. Make the rotten ones the apple of their eyes. Get hurt and wonder why they've become blind. And the good ones look at all of this and cry. Asking, how far am I up the apple tree, for it to be so hard to be picked? How far must I fall from the tree, For love to come and let me feel it?
First poem in a long time.
#unrequited#love#sad#lonely#alone#metaphor
McValene
Written by
McValene
17/F/Johannesburg, South Afric
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
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