Taken For Granted

May 31, 2011
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The sun's reaching, steaming rays,
Licking up the glistening water on the beak of a blue jay.
Quenching it's thirst with an ice cool drink,
The sound of a dog's bark sends it off in a blink.
The dog barks at the sight of a rabbit,
It takes off after it; just another bads habit.
The rabbit runs, runs fast as the wind,
Runs straight under an old willow tree that it takes shelter in.
The old willow tree stands, tall and proud,
Hiding the dead girl under him, all wrapped up in a shroud.
The little dead girl who's life is done,
Will never again feel the kiss of the sun.

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