i change my colour during fall
my leaves would fall during winter
during spring my branches would grow tall
summer, soo hot, i would grumble and mutter
i live a life with both sorrow and joy
my life isn't always bread with butter
i silently wait for the day i wouldn't enjoy
the day that i would die in the hands of a wood cutter
Copyright © 2009 by Sneha Murali
(short and painless...hehe! ! ....wrote it when i was very little...dont remember when though)
this is nice..... since little were your days, , , height: you have a big gift....... nice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
your talking tree...talks wise...good work Sneha...you have poetry in you...10