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P. 4

With feathers so

                         As time moved on,                                                                                                                                                         shinny and white,



                         This baby bird grew,                                                                                                                                                      It made her mother




                         And grew some more.                                                                                                                                                       fear,



                         Until one day                                                                                                                                                             And nurse a deep



                         she flew from the floor.                                                                                                                                                    hidden fright.







































                                                                                                                                                                                           ‘For what if she fell



                                                                                                                                                                                           and was hurt like me?



                                                                                                                                                                                           And she injured her wing




                                                                                                                                                                                           and never was free?’
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