Beautiful round tables,
And chairs for the inable.
All come from trees of the wood.
Time makes seeds into what could.
Tiny saplings turn towering oaks,
Covering those with no coat.
Roots planted firm in what nurtures,
Growing far and wide in all acres.
But a time comes, when trees fall,
Only then can a tree become
a masterpiece for all.
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Author:
Kebiin (
Offline) - Published: September 18th, 2017 02:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
Offline)
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