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Image for the poem Death of a Rodent

Death of a Rodent

Poor little thing.

Curled up in a corner,
of an old metal box,
no way to get out,
oh, what a shame.

Bones and dead bugs,
are all that remain,
of an innocent little creature,
yet no one's to blame.

Captured in an image,
its death has been saved,
curled up in a corner,
forever there to remain.

Oh, poor little thing.
Written by jmcchesnie (Joylyn)
Published
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