we have to start somewhere but we only begin once,
sprout tails from the seeds of our inception
and grow branches that breed fruition

my superstition
is that my poor choices
will bring me spiritual attrition.
that each bad apple
when indulged, will lead to disaster

one bad apples ruins the bunch
and I have a hunch
that if I defy my intuition,
If I take a step in the wrong direction,
the momentum of destruction
will carry me away

i can selll my soul to my ego
and tranform my aspirations
into idiotic children
reaching towards the stars
but barred by the limitation
of believing they're too far

for now i think i'll let the bad apples fall
and focus on sinking my roots deeper,
stretching my limbs higher,
even as this slope becomes steeper

for I am a reaper
of rewards
the future is uncertain
and there is so much in store