(no subject)
i'm an apple near the bottom of the barrel. i'm crying out to the injustices above me, to no avail. whatever it is that rattles my wooden container every so often frightens me, and none of my kin are able to provide me with insight. so here i lay, near the bottom of the barrel, crying out praying they will be heard, begging for some insight to this confusion, but its all in vain. by the time my voice breaches the surface i will be decayed and rotted