Sunday, June 6, 2010


Why is it that
Forbidden fruit
Turns wise men fools,
Discretion moot?

Though still unripe
And hanging high,
A fiend, I still
Can't help but try

And try, and try
Some more, I must
It's boom or bust

So facing bruise
And scar, and pain
All odds be damned!
I yet maintain

I know I'm beat
You mock me now
Still I engage
With furrowed brow

When far too late
I cede defeat
And feel the sting
In my retreat

Then even I'll
Condone pursuit
All manner of
Forbidden fruit

In my defense:
Last-ditch decree
That humans act

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