11 wolves had passed their way
The human way
To their dismay
In the deep of the woods
They are ought to stay
Far away to hunt their pray
Wolves and Men will never share
The natures gold
The bloody pray
Now too close the pack moves in
Too close to their homes
Against men's will
Nervous fingers pull the triggers
Warm blood flowing
The wolves lay still.
(this poem was inspired by the news we heard today at school. One hunter saw 11 wolves passing very close to our school. They usually stay far away from this village. Humans dont like wolves too close to their homes. This never ends good for the wolf pack)
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