The bike was all alone,

leaning on its only friend, the tree.

The rubber from the wheels

was as fine as a web.

The bell screamed

then a silent ring.

The set was crumbling,

like the crust of toast.

The peddles where wonky

like a sloping hill.

The metal of the bike

was slowly disappearing,

leaving only a frame.

The headlight was cracked

like a broken mirror, leaving 5 years bad luck in its place.

The wire off the wheel

twanged like a snapped string on a guitar.