and the whiff of their death in trails is left, to remind us of their fall, but as accustomed, we ignore......
when i was a little girl my heart was made of forests towering trees that housed little woodland creatures
A sad poem written in against of deforestation and animal hunting. The promise might be a little too sad or dark. Just tell me and I will change it.
How long have you been here?
If you don't help this world, who will ?