Apple-Gate

    were i an apple …
        dangling on a tree …
            what is it …
                that i should be?

    i look around …
            stare at the ground …
                or up to the sky …
                    and ask why?

    my dna informs me
        i may not fly …
            that to fruit alone
                is my destiny

        and beyond this …
            just pure conjecture …
                to fall to earth and root anew …
                or join fallen brethren …
                    in apple pie or cider brew