The Apple Tree

Life is like an apple tree,
You never know when you will fall or if you’ll be picked
You watch all those around you be picked from the tree, and yet your still there
Sitting high above the rest, so bright and shinny and still no one picks you. People walk past; they see the apple high above them just out of reach. Sticks and stones are thrown in hope the apple will fall, through all the bruises and the apple is as shinny as ever. Till one day someone climbs the unforgiving tree, the branches scratch as if they were claws crabbing at their clothes, even that cannot stop the determined. At last after years of waiting the apple is finally picked, but before they can take it home, the apple that once shone so bright... just shrivelled up and died.