What I thought would be a regular ol’ Tuesday afternoon, filled with inappropriately timed naps and scheduled mental breakdowns, was sent for a whirl when I came home to my dorm and found several scraps of paper littered outside my mini-fridge. Now, I am 100% definitely a slob, but I think would’ve remembered tossing a dozen strips of paper onto the floor. Upon closer examination, I realized that these pieces of paper were tiny poems written to me by the apple that had been in my fridge for nearly five weeks. Here’s a few of them:
Let me out! I’m rotting in here
or I’ll tell mom you’re drinking beer.
Shall I compare thee to a dumbass?
Thou art more careless and have no class.
~
Why are you constantly eating Cheez Its?
Compared to a Granny Smith, they’re the pits!
~
Just throw me out! Bake me in a bread!
Give me to a friend! Bash me in the head!
~
You open the fridge and me, you simply ignore
Why the milk over me? Wish I was back in the store.
~
I refuse to remain here, bruised and rotten
Oh, I shall have my revenge! I will not be forgotten.
Tragic.
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