after the sun rise

The sun rises,

The birds fly.

The leaves held their hands.

And happily, they start to sing.

The tree dances while giggling,

Which bird is gonna come, they think.

When they're cold and start to shiver.

The sunlight shines and makes them gold.

Leaves, birds, sun, and trees.

Just like in the fairy tale snow white scene.

Suddenly humans and trucks they see.

They’re humbling with an axe they carry.

They swing the axe and land on the trunk.

And chopping the trees down they began.

The birds, they scream and ran,

Like water flowing from the dam

The sun rises.

No birds fly.

The leaves on the land.

And no more songs they sang.