Through the ice they zip and slice,
Cutting patterns in the ice,
From left to right they swish each way,
Chasing pucks as pucks slide away,
Clack, clack sounds as sticks collide,
Two powerful ice soldiers knocked into the side,
The cheer of the crowd as the brutes are put in check,
The cheering grows louder as one gets knocked to the deck,
Teams in bright colors crash again and again,
Giant men without teeth not looking for friends,
They battle to win over one little puck,
To sink it into the net with skill and some luck,
Iced breathe and rages of anger,
Just a game on the ice,
as men cut ice for the strangers.
Originally Posted On Site: 2007-06-06 11:52:58
Last Login: 05.05.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 127
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