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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