Crab Apple
We've all sunken teeth into a sour ball.
Aghast at its bitter depths of beauty,
Hidden too appal like human nature.
Loves no different than this tutti-frutti
These golden orbs halve rouge with pith
They're shrunken skulls a coffins core.
With a taste alike, a dead suns, zenith!
O tang of death it's rancorous, tariff…
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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