Ripened apples danced in breeze.
I saw two of them fall down .
When i ran to pick all of the apples,
i realized it was not the apples.
But all of them had been the red birds.
Birds And Apples
Bobby Peter
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 05/16/2020
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Poem topics: red, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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