Snow is butter, smooth but rough.
As I come down hills, I am a bullet.
As I travel up, I'm a flowing stream,
My board is my legs, as walking comes natural.
Ready to go, I am free.
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Author:
Bowler2013 (
Offline) - Published: December 20th, 2015 21:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
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