The Red Bike

The red bike,

It just sits,

No one ever touches it,

No one ever claimed the bike,

After years in the park,

It lost some of it shine after tons of storms,

The rust comes and covers the beautiful paint,

The weeds begin to wrap around the wheels,

The bike doesn't look at beautiful as it used to,

But now it's apart of peoples memories,

Just yesterday a little kid climied up and pretended it was his dirt bike,

Thats why it was placed there,

 I placed it there, 

All those years,

And after all those meomories,

My wish finally came true.