The bicycle by Nadia
The bike leans, against the elderly, oak tree, stand on the lush of earths grass.
The handlebars poke out like a rhinos horn but duplicated into two,
The saddle is as ting and low to the ground like a rabbit jumping and searching for food in any time of day.
The chain is as strong as a thick stick on a tree dangling in the cold breeze of the air.
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