I used to have a nice new bike I could not ride.

It was shining red, like a fresh apple.

I could hear the bike calling my name.

It was just sitting in my concrete driveaway.

I felt like it was taunting me.

I was five at the time.

I could not ride this bike but I dreamed that I could. 

One day I was walking with my Mom.

She said to ride my bike.

I was quite nervous.

All I heard was the birds chirping,

All I smelled was the sharp icy scent of the wet grass,

All I saw was the road ahead of me.

As I approached the bike.

I told myself that I could not ride it.

As I brought it slowly up and put one leg over it.

I pushed off the ground as my Mom had shown me.

I begrudgingly pushed the pedals.

I set off!

I was so dazed that I had masterfully managed to ride it that I didn't look in front of myself.

I wrecked the bike into a fence and fell off

But I didn't cry

Because I was so elated with the fact that I could ride my bike.

When I got up I brushed off the dirt from my pants.

I felt like a whole new person.