A Bike Ride

I must exert some energy, I’m feeling quite awake.

I guess that second latte might have been a small mistake.

I push the pedals harder, no intent to use the brake.

I pass a man who asks me if my “stunning eyes are fake.”

What a silly question, what does he expect I’ll say?

“Yes sir, I wear colored contacts every single day.”

But I accept the compliment. A smile, and I’m away

To blast my music, racing cars. “Move bitch, get out the way.”

A bike can cure a loss of focus, push away depression.

With it’s powers you can make a hella first impression.

Zoom around pedestrians in every which direction.

Pedal, crank, and foot are one. Inseparable connection.

Weave between the traffic through tight spaces silently.

When my pulse is rushing I feel most alive and free.

All my life I knew the city was the place for me.

But on my bike I can enjoy it twice as thoroughly.

Stickers cover every inch, the best of my collection.

And as the shiny windows pass, I smile at my reflection.

How I’ve stayed alive this long is quite a valid question.

Red lights and speed limit signs are only a suggestion.

When my motivation needs a hustle to inspire,

Backpack, knives, and sandwiches all are that I require.

Somehow when the sun is gone, I’m suddenly on fire.

And I’ll keep riding recklessly until my heart’s desire.