The Apple…A Story poem

grayscale photo of man holding apple fruit

held the apple
against his shoulder
and looked away
he wasn’t sure
if it was poisonous
but he had eaten
everything he found
growing around him
and nothing had
harmed hm
so far

he was tired of being
tired of being
somehow he knew
the apple was dangerous
which only made it
more attractive
the animals around him
were eating the fruit
as it lay on the ground
or pecking at it
while it was still on the tree
so how bad could it be

the wind told him
it was the fruit of
but he didn’t know how
knowledge could be
hidden in something
he could eat

so he took a bite
and felt the juice
rundown his chin
and drip onto his chest
he groaned
closing his eyes
savoring the taste

he picked two more
and finished them
in no time at all

he looked at the tree
and saw
that he could
out of its branches

the knowledge
of violence
was born



P.S.   I love this photograph so much…I could write a thousand stories about it.  It’s absolutely wonderful.

This entry was posted in Poetry, Story Poems, violence and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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