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I Am A Tree
People are trying to
Make me free.
Endless cutting
Of my fellow
Proved to be fatal
For your sorrow.
I provide you
Many a thing.
Just make yourselvess
A human being.
Cut me and I will
Weep without tears.
Use me in the mill
Without any fear.
One day will come
You all will lose;
The place called home.
Evolution starts weeping,
On this seeing.
Urging you to stop,
Otherwise lose hope.
poem
by
Vizard Dhawan
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