by Sonia Cheug

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 .

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