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City Bike

I breath the cold air of

the city, the drench of

old, rats and sewer.


I pass the old man,

sitting on the corner who

whistles at the young blonde

here for the summer.


I smile to the baby,

sitting in her stroller

laughing at what I think

is her mother.


I spot the old city bikes,

resting on the corner,

and the taxis rushing

through the cities boroughs.


I stop for a moment,

for a beautiful women.

who stands calmly in a

long white dress.


Autumn leaves flowing,

to the music of the Beatles

surrounding the memorials.


I turn to my street and

look down at my PJ's,

for this was just an

early breath of fresh air.

Oh, how I love my city.


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