Short Poem
Flying high over fields of green,
Seeing that which I'd never seen.
People working in the fields,
Forming circles around the yields.
Brotherhood seen from afar,
Don't realize how lucky they are.
Flying high over fields of green,
Seeing that which I'd never seen.
People working in the fields,
Forming circles around the yields.
Brotherhood seen from afar,
Don't realize how lucky they are.
name for poetry?
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