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The pass on

I walked with my mind down a long unknown road
to speak with trees, who never had a chance to have there story told
They are old, living in times of new, as they cried they ask “what did they do?”
Nothing I could say that would make them understand, how do you describe the hate of man?
As I walked away with my head down low,  told them I will pass on their story, so here it goes

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