Apples

The sun grew hotter as it rose in the sky,
the ground was cracked, broken and dry,
I walked along as time ticked by,
searching to find some shade.
I picked up my pace and looked up to see,
up ahead in the distance, a towering tree,
and underneath it, shade waiting for me,
waiting to cool me off.
I finally found a place to sit,
laid my head back, closed my eyes for a bit,
but abruptly I was awoken when something hit,
me right on top of the head.
I opened my eyes and looked around,
dozens of apples sprawled out on the ground,
and right next to me is where I found,
the one that hit me on the head.
I looked at the apples that no one would eat,
laying dirty and bruised and ripe by my feet,
shriveling slowly in the summer's heat,
all of them going to waste.
More of them than my eyes could see,
so that's why, it seems to me,
every apple that falls from a tree,
should be given to a horse.