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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