The Perfect Whitetail

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The Perfect Whitetail
So obsessed with the sport
The hunt
The thrill
Hunting deer is his life
The only thing real.
As he sits in his stand
Not one deer does he see
But imagining them
He can see himself.
Trampling through
The brush and the woods
He moves so sleek and smooth
Hiding from all hunters.
The perfect rack and a big big body
He is now the thing
That he once was set to kill.





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