Bag O' Rotten Apples
Fun fact: I was thinking about old school projects - poems I'd written for school, more specifically - and I began toying with the idea of themed poems. Not an original idea, by any means, but one I ran with none-the-less. After a short questioning process, I had three subjects to write poems about: Oogie Boogie, rotten apples, and Dweisel Puterschmidt and His Unlawful Banshees. Needless to say, I had some fun with it, and would enjoy continuing writing poems based on what subjects are thrown at me. So the question is: Got any ideas?
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Some squashed between my fingers, and other’s remained firm.
And though the smell would linger, I loved to watch you squirm.
My bag of rotten apples, by far my greatest trick,
Is one I use to dig in, until it makes you sick.
I like the way the skin peels and how the meat turns brown,
And I also do enjoy that splattered, slimy sound,
They make when you drop kick ‘em or hurl them at the ground.
But that, of course, is bad to do, because it makes mom frown.
My favorite pranks involve them; the best ones always do,
My bag of rotten apples, plus me, and then, plus you.
Like when I sat atop the roof and launched them into space,
I thought it really made it there, until I heard: “My face!”
Or there’s that time, I went to school, and hid them in my locker,
But then I had a jolly time outside while playing soccer,
It was such fun, I forgot my bag, and headed straight for home.
And when I finally walked inside, I realize it was gone.
The next day, I’m sad to say, when I stepped into class,
My teacher was plugging her nose, and said it smelled of… bass.
I love my bag of apples, and though they may be rotten,
I know that in my oldest days, they'll never be forgotten.
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Some squashed between my fingers, and other’s remained firm.
And though the smell would linger, I loved to watch you squirm.
My bag of rotten apples, by far my greatest trick,
Is one I use to dig in, until it makes you sick.
I like the way the skin peels and how the meat turns brown,
And I also do enjoy that splattered, slimy sound,
They make when you drop kick ‘em or hurl them at the ground.
But that, of course, is bad to do, because it makes mom frown.
My favorite pranks involve them; the best ones always do,
My bag of rotten apples, plus me, and then, plus you.
Like when I sat atop the roof and launched them into space,
I thought it really made it there, until I heard: “My face!”
Or there’s that time, I went to school, and hid them in my locker,
But then I had a jolly time outside while playing soccer,
It was such fun, I forgot my bag, and headed straight for home.
And when I finally walked inside, I realize it was gone.
The next day, I’m sad to say, when I stepped into class,
My teacher was plugging her nose, and said it smelled of… bass.
I love my bag of apples, and though they may be rotten,
I know that in my oldest days, they'll never be forgotten.