Tree

by Samiksha Ghumare aged 13

This is a tree,
Its fruits are free.
Some birds are on the tree,
My mother beat me.
Some birds are singing,
My mobile is ringing.
Tree has a bark,
I saw a shark.
It gives us fruit,
I don’t like its root.

One Response to “Tree”

  • Roger Stevens

    Rather than making it rhyme, concentrate on the poem making sense. That, and the rhythm of the poem, is more important than the rhyme.

    Reply
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