By Mallory Naselroad
There was an old chicken coop
down at the farmhouse.
Hidden away in green acres,
where we played,
where we ran.
There were no chickens,
not for a longtime,
So, we used it to play house instead.
I was the mom,
who did dishes and sang.
You played a dad
who worked.
One day we found a dead bird
in the chicken coop.
And never went down there again.
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