The Rotting Apple

One day, I see a single patch on one of the sides.
Thought of getting rid of the patch,
by slicing out the browns and storing the luscious leftovers.

Somehow days went by,
might be because of my sheer negligence,
maybe I took it for granted all along and in my mind
I pinned the thought "What else might go wrong?!"

The work was now being done by the surroundings that covered,
those brown patches have grown bigger in size,
more in numbers,
as if they were trying to reach out to each other.

Fooled by the appearance yet again,
being an optimist,
thought of getting rid of the patches,
by slicing out the browns and storing the luscious leftovers.

Alas! The browns now rule I observe.
When I cut it open,
I find the browns on the surface, now spreads to the depths as well.
Depths that merge with the core.

What to do now?
What to do with it?
I console myself now that I must let it go.

As the skin no longer totes any pressure.
Just a firm tap now triggers the browns,
shatters it to the depths and
nothing can be undone anymore.
I console myself now that I must let it go.

Might be because of my sheer negligence,
maybe I took it for granted all along and in my mind,
I pinned the thought "What else might go wrong?!"
But now, it's gone and I did let it go,
startled and troubled, I stare at the table,
where nothing was left behind.

What if this would have been a part of me?
What if it was my core self?
A part of my heart or mind.

I get chills down the spine,
even when these virtual illustrations dance in front of my eyes.
Still startled and troubled, I stare at the table,
where nothing was left behind.