A wise woman picked the apple from my eye,
Thought he was most flaveacent,
Complying with her bulimic dinnertime.
My blank eyes knowing no other content,
My awe for him unbent,
She left, so then we went.
I followed her home head to spine,
She did not realize for she had a slow mind.
I made off with the dinged appall,
I preserved, I hoped for what was deserved.
Time did nothing. I plucked the apple from her eye.