Mar 2017
I know that when I hear the sound
Of falling wood that hits the ground
I think of a tree so innocent
An axe in it making a dent
I wish I could help, but no
They're chopped in sunshine, rain, or snow
The mean old men would stop and quarrel
Never thinking of the bird or squirrel
Down fall the trees
And all the bees
Are mad at men
For smashing their den
I know that when I hear the sound
Of falling wood that hits the ground
I'll know that not just the trees
End up falling to their knees
Protect Trees!
-Hailey A.
Of falling wood that hits the ground
I think of a tree so innocent
An axe in it making a dent
I wish I could help, but no
They're chopped in sunshine, rain, or snow
The mean old men would stop and quarrel
Never thinking of the bird or squirrel
Down fall the trees
And all the bees
Are mad at men
For smashing their den
I know that when I hear the sound
Of falling wood that hits the ground
I'll know that not just the trees
End up falling to their knees
Protect Trees!
-Hailey A.
I made this poem a while ago. No, I don't care all that much about trees, but it's important to know that when a tree is chopped down, so is an animal's home.
