Earth, earth, earth we live on it
You can’t imagine how many people fit in it
Please do not waste water
You can use it later
Only people are saying, not doing
All greenery is going
Please don’t sit, come and help
It is the matter of our health
I hope you understand my words
I was not a beautiful soul, I had my fair share of scars and bruises.
I was not a pitied soul, I was thought to be loud and rash.
I was not a loved soul, I was stoned to death.
Oh, my dear child! I was the dreamer! Nay; death does not mean what you think.
Death means; the soul has been shattered, It has been cruelly battered,
It has been rattled by a savage giant, It has been torn; oh, my shattered pride!
It has been laughed upon; oh, my battered prejudice! It has been stomped upon; oh, my dear heart!
Oh, my dear child! I am the dreamer! Tsk! You thought that was cold and harsh, my death, dear child, was far apart.
Murdered brutally; not a single tear in sight! The limp body left to rot, under a cold, dark mound, like a prisoner!
My writings! My ideas! My thoughts! All left to gather dust and grime, under an old, woebegone pile! Oh, my dear child! I was the dreamer!
All you have to do is follow the key
If you follow the key, you see the view
Don’t forget the key is only you
Don’t cut trees, but plant more
Remember that for sure
World Forestry Day is here
Time to take action and not fear
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The Beaconhouse Early Years Programme
Young Canvas Art Exhibition and Competition
Beaconhouse-Newlands Lahore Authorised for the IB-PYP
Beaconhouse Launches BEACONNECT
First Pakistani to Win Jameel Art Prize
Three Cheers for Central Region!
Hats Off To You
A Magnificent Theatrical
Karachi’s Rising Star
JTC Girl’s Annual Play