A cold winter's morning,as the dark clouds dropped,
The squirrel went down the tree,
With an impending storm,and the food stash gone,
The critter was wandering around,
All his efforts in the fall,and the nuts he stored,
Had all now gone to waste.
Mad with rage,he wondered aloud and cursed the day;
It pained.
Had all now gone to waste.
Mad with rage,he wondered aloud and cursed the day;
It pained.
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