The mighty oak lay broken
In the wake of the storm
And I am deeply saddened
For as a boy I climbed
Its mighty steadfast trunk
And sat amongst its limbs
Sheltering beneath its canopy
As generations of small boys
Had done many times before me
But then I saw an acorn
On the ground beside my feet
So, I picked it up and smiled
And took it home with me
So, I could grow his son
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