Don'T Look Back

"scared" "I'm getting off" Still, my bike ride continued everyday I cried and closed my eyes I begged ardently feeling father's hand, we went forward "Dad, are you holding it?" "Are you holding the bike well?" in a large playground there was father and me alone already a month I was just falling wheeling I couldn't even ride my bike for a few minutes every time like this Father with one hand wrapped up my back and shoulders with the other hand prevented the bike from falling over we were moving towards the finish line little by little when it getting dark Returning home, Father whispered in my ear "Don't look back!" "Yes" At sunset, we stood at the starting line of the playground Again I pedaled harder than any other day The bike flew forward like a flying bird The finish line began to appear before my eyes listening to father's tired breathing and footsteps I felt father's hand so I was able to keep our promise i knew Father, not with hands, but with love like a bike, he was holding on to my life.