The trees fall down, one by one,
Beneath the weight of man’s own gun.
Birds lose homes, rivers run dry,
All for the sake of the sky-high.
Roots once strong now rot and fade,
Life's woven web begins to degrade.
Floods and storms, the earth grows bare,
We’ve stolen more than it can spare.
So let us plant, let green remain,
To bring back life, to heal the pain.
For every tree, a future grows,
A gift of shade, the wind that blows.
About the Author
Rudrakshi Bhatia
Joined: 12 Dec, 2025 | Location: gurugram, India
Justa 12-year-old girl who loves reading and writing poems and stories....
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