The first time ever on a bike, it was not mine but moms.
A cold spring day, the fourth month in, my hands and toes were numb.

  We pulled the bike from safety's shed the seat was much to high.
I didn't care, I had to ride, please god just let me try.

  The road was icy, slick as glass, as if I did not see.
I had to try, twas my first chance, would dad be proud of me.

  I could not sit and peddle too, my legs were just to short.
I had no seat beneath my bum to give me some support.

  As I peddled forward ho, I focused on the glaze.
I did not want the tires to slip, to end up in a daze.

  But what I did'nt know was that the road was not my threat.
The ice on both the peddles was the thing I would regret.

  As I said the seat was high as well the bar below.
So when My feet went slipping off by now I think you know.

  So please remember one and all, this tale of pain and woe.
And just remember this one thing, big bikes and ice don't go.

"A Lesson Learned" penned by Mark Young - Posted Sunday, January 25, 2004.

Give Mark Young feedback on his new poetry please.
Share your thought's on Mark Young poetry with the Poet's Corner.

Select a page & Click "GO":