by Abby S. (9th Grade)

On an average day in Bistritsa
There are many things you’ll see.
Like buses, houses, stores, and such
That fill your heart with glee.
Turn a corner, now and then,
And strangeness you will see galore.
For a square of concrete does rest
Right in front of a very busy store.
That’s not all, I say.
There is much more to tell:
Set in the concrete is a bike,
As if it is to sell.
It sits and waits and rusts
Forever, and four days,
because it can’t go anywhere.
As in the concrete it always stays.
A funny sight to see, for sure,
A rusty bike set in a too big paperweight.
Half swallowed by a lump of clay,
The sight of its demise, some hate.
Perhaps a half-thought plan to outhink
The common bicycle gangs
We all well know
Roam the streets with beeps and clangs.
I think often of this very sad sight,
And how the bike is trapped forever.
Wondering when it can once again roam these lands.
And the answer? Never.