I stumbled upon an apple, its beauty so clear,
Its crimson skin, a true delight, so dear.
Yet within, its flesh held an unforeseen sight,
Without hesitation, I took a bite.

Disguised in beauty, it veiled its flaws,
An overripe core, betraying nature’s laws.
Though tempted to discard, I hesitated,
This apple, flawed, held potential worth applauded.

It had put on a captivating display,
Daunted by the thought of revealing its true self
But despite its allure, it couldn’t hide,
The truth it held deep inside.

As I held this flawed fruit in my hand,
I couldn’t help but understand,
That I, too, had judged by the cover,
Reducing worth to mere skin and bone, I did discover.

Nevertheless, this apple, imperfect though it may be,
Held a potential I could finally see.
Unworthy, I felt, of this masterpiece,
For I had judged based on external lease.

I cast it out, beyond my garden gate,
Where creatures roam and hunger couldn’t wait.
For them, this apple, imperfect in its state,
Would be a treasure, regardless of its fate.

This apple taught me to see with new eyes,
To value the imperfect, the flawed, the real, no disguise.
For they hold a beauty that time cannot steal,
In imperfections, a deeper truth is revealed.