Page 30 - School Magazine 2020-21

Once there was a little tree named Cand

That looked like my hand,

I kept staring it everyday

Didn’t matter day or night.

It stared at me I stared at it

Always it went like that,

One day a man came with his axe

Cutting my little hand,

And that was the last moment

That I saw my little hand.

Naman C.A

VII B

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