Died two thousand and twelve,
Aft' a fairly routine fall in Utah,
So disappears the helve,
Of the saber that cleaved the way for those,
Who live by the halfpipe,
That now can compete in the Olympics,
Somewhere Sarah never got to reside,
Lauded by skiers internashnally,
For giving birth to it,
She would have won a gold medal this year,
But for the accident.
Now all who win,
Like our Darrel Howell,
'Spite not being 'llowed her sticker,
Still dedicate their medals to that gal.
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