And when tyres would
take wounds
by the double piercing nails
Along the rough road
My heart would sink, deeper
Down the heaven's well
How could I serve a ride
to my newly bride
if she could not sit on cycle's top tube.
Puzzling along the way, all barefooted
Towards mending my thoughts
As to keep wife by my side, and
To tuck the bicycle handle to the other side.
Stitching love, side by side
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