The bike is covered in mud as it sat there everyday all day.

The handle bars feel like you have glue all over yourself.

The wheels , you can hardly see them it looks as if there is no wheels.

The bell is as quiet as the night.

The tree is whispering to the bike and saying sorry.

The saddle is as rocky as a roller coaster.

The rubber tyres is as dirty as puddles.

The purple pedals is as wide as Mount Merapi.

The light is as dark as a stormy night.

The cobwebs are wrapped around the metal of the bike.