Wednesday, June 15, 2011

A B B

 

A broken Bicycle


My bicycle was in a sorry state

Wasn't my fault I hit the gate


Just because I was riding fast

I didn't want to be the last


And now I find the race is done

I am the last and the race was Won


A broken bicycle is not a sight to see

Or my bruised and aching bloody knee


There's a lovely young lady by my side

And the tears and pain I try to hide


Then with a smile and tender hand

The pain is gone, I'm in wonderland.


MiSt 15 6 11

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