Quiet Cutting

In the quiet orchard, an apple's fate unfolds

 

A peel and seeds discarded, its story untold

 

In society's rhythm, a similar tale we see

 

Quiet layoffs occur, a worker set free

 

Once colleagues in labor, now strangers in sight

 

Replaced by fresh vigor, in the corporate night

 

An apple’s outer shell or the seed within its core

 

Are they but remnants of value that is no more?

 

This overlap of vision, is it mere illusion?

 

Or a poignant metaphor for our shared confusion?

 

Both cast aside when they've served their use

 

In nature's cycle or corporate ruse