Bitter Apples
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In a derelict farmhouse, it's early dawn
She counts the apples spread like marbles on the floor
Amber sun streams in,
forming prisms on the walls
There's a prison in her mind that locks a door
The orchards are the center of her world
She lifts the apples to her lips
and tastes the bitterness of tears
The sustenance of suffering is fear
She lives in a world that has no shore
Only apples to fill the void
And a silent voice within she can't ignore
There are walls she cannot climb
There is nothing she can find
to break the chain that binds her to the floor
A journal left behind
is written in her hand,
but elements of life
will disappear
A season will unfold
to makes the reader cold
as if one's fragile reason has no core
_______________________________________________________
6/2/17
God Knows Where I Am : Contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2017
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