The Chita
In The afternoon sun
The air is a bit cooler.
The light is On the flowers
View, quiet and peaceful.
The green grass glitters
In the serenity of the plains.
And Chita sets off
To a race for prey
It can not, It do not know as its prey
To Eat grass.
And a great, quick run
Its precise muscles are correlated
Run as lightning speed
Toward the poor, weak prey.
And that's the poor, the weak
With all its might it ran
Its The running of his life.
8.6.06
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