We are apples,
you and I.
Tell me more,
you raise a sigh.
I’m the apple
of your eye,
you’re hard to swallow
though I try.
You keep bobbing
up and down,
I topple the cart
and go to town.
I am sweet,
you are tart,
you are wilting,
I’m state of the art.
You are rotting to the core,
THIS IS GETTING TO BE A BORE!
june 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment
Add a comment.