Rotten Apples

From the Corners of my eye,
Just as I was passing by.
Some hanging things I did see,
Scraggy and weathered looked to me.

I knocked that apple to the ground,
It hit quite hard with a thumping sound.
It was bruised and battered all over it,
I really didn’t want to admit.

I picked it up for later to eat,
For a midnight snack or small lunch treat.
I was scared of course because of its taste,
A day went by and then I faced.

That apple I had saved to eat,
Though bruised and old it tasted sweet.
Its not appearance or where you grow,
But what’s inside that counts you know.