Ride Alone into the City
Lost Tourist Writes

Carrying two Jerry cans,
Popped on the rear end;
Of my beloved bike,
Rushing through the city skies;
Lost in the mountain heights.
Stepping the brake so hard,
On the curves of the road;
Through the lonesome stairway,
Reaching for the stars.
I carry myself forward,
The cherry blossoms heading;
The reverse side,
Yet it feels so relaxing...
Oh, the fresh air of the hills,
Making my lungs pound;
Like a fish's gills...
I want to take in a few more breathes;
Before that lonesome curve ends.
The tires are kinda,
Holding me back;
Maintaining my speed,
Close to a turtle.
It seemsĀ kinda futile,
But here I am;
At the junction,
Racing against time.Ā
I wish it was my last ride,
Let it be safe and sound.
Until I meet my wife,
And the only daughter;
We did have...
Reaching all the way,
To the States;
Far beyond the countryside,
Was welcomed with garlands;
From the sheriffs of the town.
Carrying two Jerry cans,
Now unloading them;
In their home's garage.
Took a U-turn,
Back to the States;
With my wife, beside me,
And our daughter;
Seated safely...
In her mother's lap!
Ā
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