The Apple

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,

because I have looking at you and only seeing me.

When you hold your cry

when you tell me to try.

When I’m scared or simply there,

I see how much of you I bear.

I think the apple can be yellow or green,

Cause there are some differences between you and me.

In how one feels, how much love one needs,

In the way we grow, in the way we bleed.

Whether it’s just about me

or it’s about the tree.

I think the apple was spoiled from the start,

But we all know the tree and the apple were not that apart.

Even when bruised, even when rotten,

Even when feeling lost and forgotten.

And even after falling from the tree,

The apple will always be me.

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