A little world lies below,
It’s full of friends; and even foes.
From the ants who are climbing up the hill,
To many plants; moving or still.
There are many pretty flowers,
Nourished by rainy showers.
And there are also some small worms,
Who always wiggle and squirm.
Nobody gets time to get up and see,
And this little world of ours stays unseen.
August, 2024
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