Somewhere in a Garden
A silver apple sits
It has no special place, because it just doesn't fit
And it has no power, no value
Because no one wants it
Even though everyone needs it
Yet the old man besides it
Never eats it
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of the Broken
PoésieThere are voices that cannot be drowned, and writings that cannot be burned. That is because they have found worse and have slowly learned. And this is true. From them, comes the Collection of the Broken.
