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Riding Two Wheels
RIDING TWO WHEELS  
 
 My dad takes me out to the garage
 and a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach arises.
 The sun shines vibrantly outside,
 no clouds for miles. 
 The sidewalk sparkles 
 and acts as my “Red Carpet” for my riding debut.
 Off go the training wheels.
 One.
 Two.
 Again, my queasy stomach turns.
 We lead my newly decorated bike-
 flower stickers and all-
 down the blazing hot driveway
 to the calm sidewalk.
 Mom, grinning, comes out of the house,
 video camera ready.
 This is going to be a big day.
 I buckle my helmet straps
 and climb upon the 
 magenta seat-
 my throne-
 trying to ignore my queasiness.
 Dad starts me off,
 holding my back and helping to steer;
 guiding the way 
 for the next few feet.
 “Let go dad!” I yell.
 
 The next thing I know, 
 I am lying on the lifeless, brown grass.
 My nerves have overcome.
 Defeat.
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