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02/15/19 at 11:11PM
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Poetry
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Hearing the noisy clacking of a beak,
I look up at the Fir tree,
Into the branches, then I see
A big Crow, looking down at me.
Feed me, he caws, from up above.
I need to eat and I love
Sitting in the trees, making my sound,
Seeing you put peanuts onto the ground.
