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Acorn
The small, frantic squirrel scurries down the bustling street
He looks up and sees the fedora-clad man smoking a cigarette.
He doesn’t care.
Almost on a mission, he looks up and sees the beautiful gargantuan sculpture.
He doesn’t care.
He runs up some more and sees people dancing in the center court.
He doesn’t care.
He sees a man petting his dog with sincere love.
He doesn’t care.
Off in the corner of his eyesight, he sees it.
Standing tall against the light pole.
It’s beautiful.
It is his companion.
Acorn.
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Just a quirky, short poem about a squirrel.