I look out into the mist.
It's a very humid day.
I see a something moving,
It's very hard to say.
It starts coming closer and closer,
And then it comes out.
I was scared over nothing,
Just baby deer.
It's lost and it's helpless.
I try to be it's friend.
It stands still as a statue thinking, if I am a friend.
It thinks I am a hunter, because of my binoculars,
And then it runs off,
To another land.
I consider then on why it ran off,
And why I wasn't it's friend.
It could be of the hunter,
Or just another end.