Apples are produce,
Until they drop on your head,
Then they are pondered,
Unless you are dead.
Posted by The Crazymad Writer on May 26, 2016 in poems
Tags: falling apple
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 238 other followers
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Entries (RSS) and Comments (RSS)