The broken bike is nearly broken into peaces,lay behind a historic tree,

The handle bars is as fragile as a vase that means life to you,

The rusty old metal is brown like chocolate ice cream,

The gold bell dings in the midnight when creatures and people sleep,

The un-pumped wheels that are flat and have wholes in them like a caterpillar chewed into it,

|The water bottle has untouched water in it, that has very crispy, green leaves rotting away like breath,

The peddles that dangled on both sides of the beloved bike,

The cogs that have a smooth rythmn when you pedal