There’s always an issue
It’s on a schedule,
like the trains passing periodically; Routine.
Passing out way too frequently
Nothings working with me
It’s fine, it happens all the time
So I’ll just leave
Peddling the wheels
Fast enough to make my chain come loose
I reach the secret path, my soles touch dirt
Tucking my bike behind a bush,
Greeting the wildlife living in the trees
It’s only the polite thing to do
Hoping the maintenance workers are off today
If not I’ll have to greet them too
Tranquility in the Abandoned,
Ambiance in being Alone.
Smoke strings upward, gone within seconds
Without a trace, disintegrating into the air
The sun disappears creating an indigo hue
My problems seem to disappear as well
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