Made on Canva and Scratch Poem created by: @rosellu I stand strong though they count me wrong. Underneath the red, is a soul that burns like fire. moving on and on. The countless times they say stories with foxes that lie, I'm crying for them childeren, you don't need to know why. For foxes are bright, their color never drowns in the water, and we all stand storng. Never underestimate me, a fox.
