An Ode.

Pink bike of mine

you give me joy.

You're greater than the

grandest toy.

Without your wheels

I would be walking.

And closer to the

Chinese mocking.

But with your speed

I fly right by.

And do not see the

natives spy.

Though sometimes death

is very near.

Because the natives

cannot steer.

Though your bell

does not work.

I can yell, "move!"

like a jerk.

Your basket holds

my purse and books.

And you've got 2 locks

in case a stealer looks.

Rain or shine

we go together.

With a sexy poncho

we brave any weather.

You take me far

you take me fast.

I hope that you

forever last.

You give me freedom

to go and roam.

Around this crazy place

I call my home.