The abandoned bike makes squeaky noises like a mouse,

as it shivers in the wind.

The exhausted wheels are calling for help,

they howl in the night,

but its calls are always ignored,

The lonely pedals are trapped by the grass,

they wish they could feel the heat of the sun,

on their rusty metal

The faded light is shining for attention,

like a hard working man who wants to go home.

The two handles are silently waiting for somebody,

but no one ever comes,

The bike waits for the grass to slowly swallow it.