Ouch, you are cold, and you break so easily, and I can see my reflection on your surface. I suppose, that I should probably take back what I said, about you breaking so easily, for I guess that depends, upon the depth of your mass, and the width of your spread. I walked upon you, nervous and afraid, I slip, and regret my foolishness. For no one can traverse you, oh whiteish expanse, you now control my driveway. I hate your stance on eminent domain, but you just hate my stance. Hello Mr. Griffin
