He was a nice, quite folk
Wished he was covered with a cloak
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He built a house upon an oak Nurtured it with his own imagination Admired what he wove as beautiful Until one day humans came over Polluted with ugly spillers Just like I never ever thought over But never mind I need to find Solution to bridge the nuance......just I didn't like the abrubt stop so pulled it over. Hope you don't mind.
Ouch! With the California fires still going, this is a painful reminder. 5stars. Nicely penned, Panagiota