Treetop acne; blemishes
needing Noxzema or costly
dermatologist to clear the
problem are popping up
amongst a mint-hued face;
where the stems
of t's and leaves grow
'round a blushing oddity;
ripe apples.

Nature's teenage flaw;
zits.
Red and budding everywhere.
Red and revolting, but meant
to be eaten.
Grotesque,
sickening, nauseating, and I gag
when one takes the first
bite.

Juices slime from a white-yellow
pulp -a pus
infecting this flushed inflammation.
Repugnantly sweet; a sugar
disgust that refuses to leave
the tongue.

Rounded though heart-shaped,
and cherry red, there's no mistaking
this tree's scar. Cherries
are infamous but apples appall, so pop
an apple, not a cherry, today.
Maybe it'll keep the doctor at bay?

A bouquet of pimples stand
on checkered cloth dining table.
Please, Mother, don't encourage this practice.
Forbid this fruit, like the Bible once said,
though we don't really
believe it, anyway.

Back to the tree, Noxzema at hand,
acne medications will do the trick.
Lets be rid of these horrid displays of
flamboyance; this tree's sorry
endeavor to cause riot.

Stop the rebellion.
Stop the defiance. Stop this deviance.
Stop the pies.

They're just going to
have to go.
So, remember, pop an apple,
not a cherry, today.