Thoughts of a Motorbike
By Harrison E
Published 23 February 2021
You ride me after school chasing big,
bloodthirsty, bulls
I feel sad as a dead flower petal in the
wind when you let me run out of fuel
I feel happy as New Year’s Eve when you
let me go so fast that you can’t see me go
past
I would like to change my old wrinkly seat
for a new smooth one with a bit of flair
I would like to tell my owner to never get
sick of me because I go anywhere
I always like to go over a jump because it
gives me tingle in my black, round, rump.
![motorbike.jpg](https://redroom-wagtail-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/media/dd/images/c55d96776b614c253abcc63e8d26b39b.jpg)