The First of March
Written by: Parker
The wind whisps through the air
The rain falls down
It bristles the trees with care
The drains might as well drown
This is The First of March
The breeze sweeps around
The birds start chirping
The air whisps with a sound
The eagles start perching
The birds are in shape of an arch.
The wind is kind
A song it sings
It calms my mind
A whisp it still clings
The First of March is here
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