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An apple lay on a plate,
On the house's threshold with eight
Young children and their pets
Awaiting to be eaten and never left

A hand held the apple 
Rising it to its mouth's level
Unto the mouth the apple entered
As the teeth stung its cover that once warmed

Crrunchh! Was the voice of the gunshot 
That tore a piece from the apple's cot 
Granting the breeze to chill its profoundness
Blistering its body with coldness

The apple's teeth clapped together
Shaking its jaw from the unmerciful wind of the freezer
That struck so painfully into its bones
Shaking the magnificent structure it was built on

Eventhough the apple was injured
It was its choice to be devoured
Yet, the apple shall reach an area where,
It shall meet new citizens' care
Welcoming it into their affectionate house
Dedicating a beautiful woven blouse
To protect it from the emotionless, wintry storm
That scratched its smooth skin that was never transformed

Sometimes it happens to plenty;
Light touches the faces of many
Adding soft textures with a touch of 
A young girl pervading the sense of love
Into their hearts' dove
Yet, some make a sin and guilt overwhelms them
As guilt climb aboard their soul's gem

But, light keeps touching their faces 
Letting them know about the existence of chances,
Which can erase their mistakes
Cleansing their path from all the aches
That struck so hard into their eyes

Never hide when you have mistaken,
For cowardice shall awaken
Instead, stand up and fix what you have done
For their might be a chance awaiting at dawn

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