The bicycle is a dinosaur ancient and extinct.

The seat is living in sadness missing the silk touch of a body on him.

The wheels are fast asleep dreaming of the good old days when they led the bike to glory.

The handlebars are sobbing away, thinking of a time when they were held tight and were not let go.

The headlight is leaning in the darkness where it used to light a path.

The brakes sit in heartbreak, for they used to save people with their mighty power but now, they don’t.

The bicycle beckons to be ridden, laying against the birch tree in sadness, hoping, waiting.