Do you remember your first bicycle?,
Did it have a bell that used to jiggle?...
A pink beautiful bicycle, I used to own,
Decorated with flowers and ribbons with matching tone...
It meant to me more than anything,
For me it was the only source of escaping...
It bought me freedom and independence,
Without license, I used to escape to the silence...
Silence of woods, trees and gardens,
After school, they used to be my warden...
How much I used to adore my little bike,
It used to take me beyond my home’s dike...
I had the most beautiful cycle in the neighborhood,
With so much pride I used to ride it in my childhood...
It was almost like a best friend to me then,
I felt it had heart, soul, feelings and compassion...
I still miss that beautiful small pink bike of mine,
The symbol of independence, freedom, love and so divine...
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