Monday, November 11, 2019

Apple Tree


I sway in the wind 
With the color of green 
Big things can find me
But little things can see
With a brownish bark 
Covering half of me
I will make paper
To make a story
I have red
Because of apples on me
They will be eaten 
And taken of the tree
My usage will end
When they think I have nothing left
But I do have one thing

The happiness in me