The shoulds are rising up today,
As in, I should be writing about the twin towers,
Or the guy who died by one of those guns
He thought everyone should carry,
But instead I worry about this little guy:
A yearling whose antlers are all kittywampus.
How did it happen, and does it hurt?
Will he be able to knock them off, and
Will they grow back straight next spring?
Do the other deer make fun of him?
Do they laugh and call him names?
Sad, isn’t it, how much easier it is
To worry about the small stuff…
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