Wilting down my resolve for a hope of finding you in my sights, seeing glimpses of you only getting farther and farther. I run and track, and hide, crawl and drag myself to find a shot.
Until I found you stuck in a tree by your antlers shaking for naught. I had caught you, I did I wept with joy in the willowed wisps of rain. I had my shot you were in my sight and I pulled my trigger with sweet delight.
How you were the prettiest trophy in my wall, stood around my fireplace maybe 10-15 feet tall I grinned with a cheer a beer down until it drips from my chin. Awoke late had I my slumber drips with the alcohol on my slacked jaw and found your trophy had gone and was left with no words no cause.
I hear hooves clicking and a I look outside and found you dead no. wait, alive. you were vigilant fast and cunning had it not been your shedding season I would have never caught up to your running. I think and stride and think and think, never should it have been in my wall. I cried and cried out to it its buck tail swings up and down with its hopping and fall.
That deer was never mine. No not at all.
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