by Rachelle David
Trees, trees, the
magical plant
The more we plant,
the less we can’t
The less we can’t,
the better breathe
And that is why now
we don’t leave
Trees, trees, they
are just like us
They are born, but
they don’t cuss
Their birthdays have
come, and we do celebrate
They celebrate ours,
and that we can’t debate!
No comments:
Post a Comment