This is me, in a tree. I can see, a little bee. In the wind, flying free, then I fall out of the tree. I go ouchie, and it hurts, the hard ground cracks the ribs under my shirt.
This is me, in a tree. I can see, a little bee. In the wind, flying free, then I fall out of the tree. I go ouchie, and it hurts, the hard ground cracks the ribs under my shirt.