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Tired was he,
As he used to stand still,
And I smiled every morning,
From my window sill.
Like a wrinkled up grandfather
Was the old tree.
On the corner of my street,
Stood he.
A witness to Time,
As the previous generation
Of children,
Had passed and played on the street,
And our generation that
Had grown and played on the very street.
But,
He shall stand no more,
Chopped down was he,
By modernization,
New Building City Policy.
Progression and Development
Continues to destroy
The greenery,
And with it,
The very core
Of humanity.
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