An Apple

A youth's life is an apple...

I hold an apple in my hand.

It is red, shiny, glorious and juicy

Ripening as I hold it.

 

I cross a path. Forked.

There are two ways to go. No cheating.

Easy way, hard way.

 

I step upon the easy path

Still holding the apple in my hand.

Sure of myself, I walk on and on.

 

It is fairly easy. There are no challenges standing in my way.

The apple's red coat is ripe now, but I am too lazy to bite into it.

As I walk on and on, it crumbles and rots. I drop it.

 

I have chosen the wrong path.

An apple is such as an adolescent's potential;

Bite into it, you will reap the fruit of your work.

Wait too long, and it will rot away.

Author's Note

Pretty weak words, but I don't feel very good. Reminder to myself; edit this when I can.

Reviews

[George Love]

I liked all but the last stanza. When you edit this, you don't have to explain your meaning to your readers.