No Hands

Hey teenage boy, riding your bicycle down my
street, arms outstretched like your flying. They

told me it doesn’t get any better than this: teenage
dreaming, hormones raging, cliques, and video

games. They said growing up is a special kind of
misery. Well, I’d like to tell you they were lying.

I’d like to tell you I’m still flying down the street.
What I can say is that they were mostly right. It

doesn’t get better, but it gets just about as good.
Let’s face it. There’re very few things better than

doing “no hands” on your bicycle, especially when
you don’t have to work in the morning.

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Listen to “No Hands.”
Autumnal Hymns

Graphic: Freepik