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The Hunter

The hunter waits in the countryside,
His prey maybe 10 feet wide.
The swift, light breeze
Makes him want to sneeze,
But that wouldn’t do,
‘Cause it’d be like saying “BOO!”,
Then add a CRASH!
And a SLASH!
And a BANG!
And he’d scare his prey
A half-mile away,
Then the hunter’s family will wail,
As they are forced to dine on quail.





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