davesh rajeev

Why do people throw sticks at my head?
Why do people talk gibberish to me?
I don’t want to be a baby.
I want to be free.
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I am as intelligent as a scientist.
I am your great grandpa!
I can swing on long treetops.
I can snatch your things quickly.
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Why do people poach me to get my sapphire coloured feathers?
Why do people crazy behind me?
Why do they so cruel to me?
Why do they stretch their giant hands to me?
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The colour of the winter is visible or invisible.
The wind, which is as strong as a wrestler, twirls, turns and twist.
The snow is flying like feathers in the blue sky.
the rain is mini cannon bolts, shooting at you in tremendous speed.
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I swish and whish around trees and lots of other things.
when I crash into to things I do not feel any pain.
You can feel me.
you will shake like an alarm ringing.
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The space poem
It was a dark night in space.
There was a bark from a place.
Astronauts had a race.
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I live in huge jungle.
My skin is as beautiful as a rainbow.
I have orange and black fushioud together.
I roar like thunder.
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