The Fawn

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If you've read some of my other stories, you may have seen this one before.

A field of flowers, where there rests a doe

Lies a newborn fawn

Unable to identify friend or foe


But here is just the starting point of its journey long

It must travel through bushes and trees

And climb up the mountain tall

And face even the toughest of enemies


But one day will come

Where this fawn meets an awful fate

A hunter will appear, burning with rage

And this is when the fawn will arrive at heaven's gate


But this fawn is not afraid

For the tears the fawn cried were not of sadness

For it knew that one day,

It would reach up into the heaven's and take its place

Finally lay its eyes upon its mother again and say,

"I've missed you."

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