The Ballad of the River

The river flows, so sweet and blueFrom the mountain snow, the stream dose comes,The fish are swimming, the children run.Forest shelters those who are true. But few are children, they come no more.They are within, their love unknown.Their sacred play forever gone,Locked away within of a door. The birds are singing, though all alone.The squirrels are running, but without funBecause the children do not run.Their hearts are empty without tone A soul is waiting known and true, It sits forever, sadly aloneThe children gone, they run no more,A sadden tale we can’t undo.

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