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An Apple Identity Crisis

February 8, 2010

Ate an apple just now, and it reminded me of a poem I wrote in August 2009.

An Apple Identity Crisis
By Stanley Quan

I know I’m an apple,
But don’t know what type.
I really must know
So I can live up to the hype.

As I hang high above,
In my golden shine,
I wonder if my name
Comes prefixed with a “pine.”

My mother was very large,
Always happy and sweet.
But my size is medium,
Or perhaps even petite.

My skin is kind of rough,
Maybe some spikes growing out.
Is this my ripened future
Or what adolescence is about?

I blush a reddish tint.
Or is it yellow that I flout?
The color of my skin
Only expands my doubt

Just give me the what,
I don’t care for the why,
“Someone please tell me
What apple am I?!”

Then all of a sudden,
Out of the blue,
Through the air,
Soft words flew:

“You put a twinkle in my eye,”
A blushing red delicious replied.

My mouth gaped frozen,
Words unable to start.
Those simple words
Melted my heart

And just like that,
Without further babble,
I knew I was
A juicy, red apple.

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