I sit down quiet and cold;
And thoughtful of who I am ;
And thinking about how God made me fine the way I am and not selfish.
Peaceful and cold, I hear a bird humming a quiet melody;
A shooting star;
I make a wish and cross my fingers to hope my wish comes true.
Trees shaking cause they're so cold;
Trees around me;
They remind me of the forest.
God made me perfect the way I am.
A poem by Sarah Bader (age 9)
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