Cycling


When the winds ice your cheek

And the pedals are at work,

You look to the world around you

And you wear a gentle smirk.

 

The leaves are racing along the road

The trees are swaying in sync,

You're pushing onward to get forward

To reach the heaven's pink.

 

You constantly look back

Scared of the shadows that follow,

You're leaving dust behind

But the past's too hard to swallow

 

But the goal is not merely

a man-made sort of thing

Rather, a wish or a prayer

Of peace the world can bring.

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