The Journey of Apples from Trees
There it is again…
That ever-present vibe that no one’s on my side,
It never used to be this way, I used to be calmer and you used to have pride.
Now all you do is nitpick at me and try to correct the unique coats I’ve grew outside and inside.
It’s contradictions like you calling me spoiled rotten when I can’t get my way but everyday I hear you pissing in the wind after the hassles at work.
You put off all your necessary projects until the last-minute, missing my baseball games and you ask why is it I never finish my homework?
It’s not because I’m a procrastinator like you though, it’s because I hate you and I hate homework!
I once said in the second grade that all I ever want to grow up to be is, you.
Thank god that part of me has been through all the necessary realities involved with growing up.
I’ll never ever neglect my child like you.
And the plot thickens,
Soup gravy like; I mean damn near poetic suicide like Emily Dickens…
It’s amazing how the apple never falls too far from the tree,
hits the ground and blames the world for all my cuts, scars, bumps and bruises.
Accusing my tree for holding me to high!
Way above the ills and perils that lay below awaiting their predetermined strikes on the likes of fresh fruit.
Even beyond the farmers’ markets and Whole Foods grocers; what never changes is where that fruit fell first.
We can hate the parents we never knew and end up being just like them until it hurts.
We can even hate the parents we resent for all the ills we feel they present and still ripe like their worst.
And what’s worst than neglecting to love them before they end up face up in a hearse?
The same roots and the same wax, different seeds isn’t what time lacks,
it’s all the proper nourishment, now DEFINE THAT!