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Hunting Season
I hear a rustle in the trees,
My ears stand tall, and my body coils tight, ready to move on
I stay still, making sure the threat is gone,
it’s hunting season, and so I am on the run.
My thin legs run through the forest,
I sprint as fast as I can go,
Always watching my back, making sure I am alone
it’s hunting season, and so I am on the run.
I’m always in danger at this time of year.
The hunters wear green,
to hide them from being seen,
it’s hunting season, and so I am on the run.
I stay and listen to the sounds of the trees.
Just when I think the coast is clear,
a bullet cuts through the air
it’s hunting season, and so I am on the run.
The pain comes as heat burning my body,
I barely hear as hunters gather round and comment on my size,
“That’s a 10 point buck,” they marvel. “Better get him inside.”
It’s hunting season, and I can no longer run.
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