Granny Smith Apple

I may not be a grandma,

But my mind is old.

I have green skin,

Green with envy and

the poison of other’s words

My skin scares people away

Because I taste sour

Everyone judges me

by the color of my skin

No one seems to care

About the core.

The core just goes into

the trash, where it rots

And molds with age

That’s where I am

Discarded by society

Waiting for the worms

To develop a taste for me.