I was young and seventeen,
When Mom'd always mumbled to me
"Apple, dine more apples--my dear buddy,
they keep thou healthy
and grow whoever thee wanted to be!"

So we went to the market Flee,
and she handpicked her brand called Newgueany
O, they were clean and shining and lovely,
just as they were small, greeny, and homely

"For this price," said she, proudly,
"Do not complain, thee, my kid,
Sour and tiny they might be,
think with thou thought as sea deep 

"Think how thou uncles spread its seeds,
think how auntie scared approaching bees,
think how rains wildered the fruits of the weakest,
and think how rich kids fatten on the ripest,...

"Apple, dine more apples--my dear buddy,
sour as they might be, tiny as they are,
they keep thou healthy
and grow whoever thee wanted to be!"

That year I was seventeen,
the age to tell red from green,
the age too tell sour from sweet,
and the age to let imgination flee,
beyond what Mom wanted me to be 

One sunny afternoon around three
On the top I climbed up a neighbour's tree,
there I astonished as full of spree
I found an apple too big to believe,

"Its color is golden with red streak,
its size is twice the apple in my dream,
it smells sweet and it fantacizes me,
I think this is the apple I've wanted to eat."

All those were my memory left so deep,
Plus the angry Mom with the words so bleak,
"Bad boy thee are thee shalt not be,
who steal neighbour's apple and thee flee.
Aren't NewGueany as good as they can be,
which could as well keep thou healthy and keep thou fit?"   

Loud I laugh and loud I speak.
"Mom I'm a bad boy you shall not teach,
your apples are pretty yet your apples are green
mine is not as yours cheap
yet yours are not merely as mine to compete"

"Bad boy as may call me to be,
I am a bad boy who will still climb the tree,
I am a bad boy who will steal the apples that I see,
those are the ones I really want to eat!"