I am William’s Apple Round and Red
I Sit Upon His Young Son’s Head
I Ponder and Think About my Life
And Wish that I was Cut into with A Knife
Will Goes to His Son to Say “Don’t be Shy”
I Only Wish He had Greeted me With A Goodbye
He Now Goes to His Bow and Takes a Gulp
I Know His Arrow will Rip Me to A Pulp
Will Now Stands There in All His Glittering Glory
But Nobody’s Going to Tell My Story
He Knocks His Arrow into the String
And Releases it with A Mighty “Fwing”
The Arrow Comes at Me Fine and Straight
But Even Now I Know it’s Too Late
The Piercing Pain Hits Me like A Raging Boar
As the Arrow Travels Farther into My Core
It Hits My Seeds like the Sharpest Dart
If Only I Had a Beating Heart
Finally the Arrow Reaches My Soul
Now There is Just a Big Gaping Hole
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