AS THEY SING,

18 4 9
                                    

Here comes the spring
With its color
Decorating mother Nature.
As they sing,
The flowers swing
Glowing up to their fullest
And fruits being the purest.
As they sing,
The birds chirp as they flap their wings
Beasts are out of caves
Playing around through the days.
As they sing,
Love fuels up even in the ruthless king
People roam around the town
Telling stories about them renown.


**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*

Note: “Them” is a metaphor only. Readers can imagine anyone as “Them”
Also sorry for this poem being short :(

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