I am an Apple

A Poem by Beau Russell

I am an apple.
I was born, filled with life,
red and ripe.
I am an apple.

But as my brothers and sisters
we're plucked from the tree,
I was left to suffer the winter.

Decayed by the cold of life,
bruised with time, I became vulnerable.
But then you came along,
a little worm my only friend.
I loved you, gave you my shelter and warmth.

Oblivious that you, worst of all,
we're destroying me from the inside.