1 Forgotten Apple

Sitting here in a fruit basket,

Waiting for the warmth of human hands

I get picked up but then tossed back in

tumbling but then I finally land

No one wants me

Not even the people with dirty hands

What's wrong with me

Is it my color, my stem

Is it this fruit that I am

everyone's getting chosen

But I'm still here

Four fruits left

Three fruits left

Two fruits lefts

Then only me he

I guess I'm not good enough

and was meant to be lonely