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Rated: · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #1417790
This is what happens when my husband bugs me when i write.
It's that time of year, you can always tell
I can barely feel my ears. Its colder then hell
The snow is falling the sky is dark,
My feet are freezing. You, want to play in the car

Slipping and sliding, wild & free
My 41 year old husband grinning like he's three
The tires are spinning trying to grip
I know the feeling my hands are froze stiff

We brake for a curve, slide around in a donut
No other traffic to swerve you laugh and say "hold on"
Not gonna be an issue I haven't yet let go
of the trusty handle. Around and around we go.

My seat belt is buckled; I can finally feel my ears.
I look at you and chuckle you hit the gas & steer.
The radio's blaring what I can't tell,
Doesn't really matter we're enjoying ourselves
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