Not a Fruitless Endeavor
I ate the apple that fell off the apeAnd lathered ointment on my wounds
For the sake of Lucifer who taught me
Never to stare at the sun too long
Because it has nails and they can stain
Even the thinnest blood with words of Christ
Who hopes to purify the world
But has run out of bleach. What is the world
Without cleanliness which we all know
Is Godliness? But perhaps God is
The dark side of all seemly things
As one dictator would like us to feel
With hate for a nosy race, or perhaps
The world is twisted like blunt knives
Thrown at an exhibit at orangutans
Who then used them to garnish fruits
That looked so tasty that I fell
Into the enclosure and fought them for it.
Leaving me fruitful. Thank God. Otherwise
This poem would be a fruitless endeavor.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 12 times
Written on 2025-10-24 at 16:09
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