We rolled in blooming roses
and onto each other
our views landing on a white castle in a bright blue haze
It was trip, those early days
When feet peddled their way into a world of adventure
When wide eyes would beam with growing lights
When mouths would curve a little more
We rode our bikes to and fro
Zig-zagging in shady alleys and straight to shady cars
We would ride until
We rose our eyebrows at ant hills
Peering into their holes and flooding them with water
Laughing at their destruction
We took big strides in our pleasure
I did not have to worry
I did not have to force myself to look at that white castle
But rather it just happened
Without a forethought.
Let's roll in papers overdue
and away from each other
because our views are different now
our views make it harder to look back
to carelessly stare at that white castle.
