Snowballs
At the corner
Of Gokul Shah's street
Was the cart of snowballs
Blue, yellow, red, pink
Bottles of colorful syrup
Adorned its cart
And amidst the bottles
A shovel to scrape the snow
Each snowball
Had its own charm
On the white snowball
Splashed colorful syrup
And with it in my mouth
I'd head back home
On the way home
A snowball of syrup
Then life would turn white
With its twists and turns
I've eaten hundreds of Amazing ice creams
But never tasted
The flavor like that snowball.
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