Climbing life

I see so many hills and so many bumps in my road and I’m pushing a broken

Bike in the dark of nowhere, no signs, no lights no trees, just me, the hills, the bumps, and the bike. Along the way I have found many flowers, but how does a flower grow without any light, without thinking I’ve always picked that flower and as soon as I pick it, it shiverals in my hand like log burning to ash faster than you can shout “no!”. As that flower blows away in the storm that seems to appear everyday at some point, my heart begins to sink, lower, and lower, until I feel nothing, nothing but a dark empty pit.