The Apple Tree

I walk among the fallen,
red ones and green ones and those of yellow skin,
shaken from their home in the tree,
destined never to be a part of the barrel

Making my way through the orchard field,
I begin to relate to the fallen discarded fruit,
left to rot or to become fodder for creatures,
serving an unintended purpose of being

As I walk apples fall and thump to the ground,
as if God himself has picked the contents of the barrel,
and thrown away those of little value or merit,
much like the multi-colored apple found yards from the nearest tree

They say the apple never falls far from the tree,
this may apply to you but certainly not to me,
For I am as different as the multi-colored apple,
Dropping and rolling down the orchard hill far from the family

The insignificant one of multi-faceted characters and color,
Yet forever bound to my brothers in the barrel,
no matter the differences of beliefs or life experiences,
our cores remain connected and contain common seeds

No matter how far one travels,
No matter the sides chosen,
You remain a part of the orchard field,
and a member of your apple tree