Apples are a formation , made up from three tiny pips .
Logic , emotions and belonging .
All three of them , lay in the very chore of the soul .
Apples come in all shapes and sizes .
Green is gold .
Red is poison .
Small is practcle .
Big is bold .
Stewed is the schemer .
Mushed up , is no sense .
Chopped up into pieces , are torn between sorts .
Half rotton is fowl , pretending to be nice .
Apples are like angels . Falling from trees of heaven .
Or they can be like demons . Waiting in hell , to posses .
Apples will always enter our lives .
They can be lovely or horrible .
But you will always learn , how to forgive the nasty ones ...
Within time .
The End .