The Orchard

My eyes are smaller than my stomach is.

That is quite a meal for me.

I have lost my appetite lately.

The basement is where we wait

For the storm to break.

Someone is lost outside,

Through the rain we hear them cry.

Deafened by the sound

Of the apples falling down.

They were rotting on the ground

When the winter came around.

My bedroom feels just like a parking lot

That's been closed up for the night

Asleep beneath the buzzing light.