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
