by Anonymous Aged 10


The wind breaks, The trees sway, The sparks fly, You look in dismay

You remember the good times you had, It wasn’t your fault, the made you mad

The flames turn to ash, The fire is dying, You hear soft tears, Somebody’s crying

But it’s all over now, and there’s a warm breeze, It’s aall a mystery, But the pain, it never starts to ease


Published by TPJ

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