March 27, 2018
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Wind whips my wild hair.
Sun shines onto my skin.
Breathing in the fresh air,
I look to the sky, up goes my chin.

A Touch of the morning breeze.
The feeling of ultimate peace.
Watching the sway of the trees.
I hope it will never cease.

Trees starting to fall.
They used to stand so tall.
Can no longer glimpse the stars.
All I see are cars.

Decaying since my birth.
We need to save this earth.

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