Where the Blame Falls
one bad apple bruise
lies gently beneath the skin
sweetness masks the taint
soon the barrel takes the blame
for one bad fruit spoiled within
fingers find the bruise
then distrust the shining fruit
every skin looks stained
one dark blemish somehow grows
larger than the orchard knows
most are good to go
hanging blameless on the bough
the marked apples fall
and leave bruises where they land
the good fruit harvests the blame
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