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I think that I shall never see
A thing as lovely as a tree.
But as you see the trees have gone
They went this morning with the dawn.
A logging firm from out of town
Came and chopped the trees all down.
But I will trick those dirty skunks
And write a brand new poem called 'Trunks'.
I always will remember -- I was in no mood to trifle;
'Twas a year ago November -- I got down my trusty rifle
I went out to shoot some deer And went out to stalk my
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