8 Miles Up the Hill-4 Gliding Down

my chest is freezing over, its getting hard to breath, how much must i travel, still i can barely see, the rain is falling down, in a thick and gray haze, its dark and dismial in this early morning day, my breath comes short in shallow pants, ive quickly escaped my fathers angry rants, my legs pump up and down, and the peddles almost strike the ground, my heart is beating crazy, flaming hot yet freezig cold, i stop to rub my chest, the handel bars i must still hold, i close my eyes and breath deeply, into the palms of jacket covered hands, im so glad i have my babys jacket, or id be cold enough to be dead, theres not a sound in the air, except the constant slap of my feet, sneakers repeatitly hitting the wet concrete, the rubber of my tires, make a buzzing sound, how much father must i walk, im ready to pass out, my hands are frozen to the bars, as i push it up the hill, im late already, but i cant stop now, almost to my destination, good thing its not the kings grand ball, almost to my destination, how long till i dethaw? im riding my last mile, but then i hit another hill, walking in the rainy cold, oh, what a thrill, the bells have rung long past, when i was suppose to be there, but will my trek even matter, will they even care? im breathing shallow gasps, my heart burns with my determination, but ice forms around it, im bound to soon faceplant, how much longer must i go, soon ill just lay down and die, but there i see the building, through the thick foggy sky, i buzz the little speaker, they ask me who i am, i tell them that im late, and they soon let me in, my bike goes against the interior brick wall, and if they complain, ill leave and take off, now ive made my destination, with my whispered poems as my strength, my dad cant complain, cause i made it to school today.