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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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