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Pollution | ||
| Birds are flying o'er the swamp, Ready for a fish to chomp. In the early morning light They are luckless in their flight. Bad pollution in the bay Made the fish go far away. Garbage now is all they see, Wondering what is to be. Can we humans clean the mess To relieve their great distress? If we really care a hoot We will try to not pollute. | ||
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