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If I took your love
Like a ripe apple on a tree unknown
There is no way that I eat,
And Satisfy My own selfishness, please.

An apple tree in some beautiful orange, why I do not want the expected results?
Since the “perfect I saw were full of bugs from the inside;
The exterior perfectly, it abounds in false truths.

But that’s not what happened
It was not so.
For I am not the gardener for our
in search of ripe fruit, to prevail.

I am a fruit itself, that in the Big Apple
I found my house and fell to the ground with a tree melon.
I’d stayed on my arm.
In fact I loved it there,
But fruit that the OH-line search, found annoying hold for someone like me.

(It’s lonely sitting in the back, but who cares).

As I crossed the yard, and look past the wide range of similar trees, I see something shiny, and compete with my loneliness in the background.
It’s an apple! So I try to roll down the hill to get a kick in my adventure, but my own is not enough momentum to what I get to see.

I pray for a miracle, perhaps even a crow or something, take me from my stumps and let me down by his side.
Fortunately, I catch the wind, sooner rather than later, and I found myself rolling the rest of the way, and as a clunk when I Arriva.

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