Bicycle

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Passion

    Bicycle

    Up and down m y pedals go,
    This contraption I am perched,
    A twist of metal, plastic and oil
    My favorite thing upon this earth,
    I pick up the pace, my heart starts to pound
    Focused on forwards, head down
    I don't hear a sound.
    Faster and faster as the sweat starts to dip
    I am filled with joy as my legs burn,
    Noone quite gets it,
    I ride all alone,
    Freedom isn't free but this is very close,
     I don't hear a sound.
    Swiftly, dart through obstacles,
    I sometimes hate it,
    but these feelings quickly cease,
    sweat and rain and fresh air,
    and grease,
    I love this, it is me
    I do not hear a sound.

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    dtalks’s Poems (21)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    This life of ours.... 0
    a problem 0
    WHAT BELONGS TO ALL OF US 0
    Dad 0
    self control 0
    here we go again.... 1
    Lonesomely Tired 0
    Stubborn 1
    Vices 0
    Bicycle 0
    The Little Things 1
    Trust 1
    Life 0
    potential lover 2
    Where to turn? 1
    Motivation 3
    you 0
    Tattooed 1
    saturday night 2
    Climb out these holes 0
    Anger 0