Flying

June 1, 2010
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When you first learn to ride a bike,
You are young.
Exploring the world,
Perched atop your throne.
Kicking off,
Pumping as hard
As your legs can handle.
Straining,
You fall.
But until you get it right,
Nothing matters.
Because even when you know
You are going to crash,
Exhilaration
Lets your mind escape
And fly.
So when you actually begin to soar,
You think you’re dreaming,
Till gravel grinds into your cheek,
Your mouth becoming salty.
No matter how many times you fall,
The betrayal
Of wheels sliding
Uncontrolled,
Always stings.
A wound cut open,
Fresh.
But one day, when you have fallen
Too many times to fathom,
Your heart makes a barrier.
Protection.
For no one to break.
Iced over, numb.
The pain will subdue,
And once nearly forgotten,
You will wake up one day
Deciding that it is time to ride your bike.
Pain disregarded,
Trusting, you mount it.
Ready to fly.





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