Faded Beauty

An old bike frame chained to a post,

chrome shining through patches of rust,

a relic of rides taken long ago,

its wheels have vanished

like youth slipping between fingers.

I think of the city’s stubborn indifference,

how it wears these remnants

as badges of time passed,

memories fading like whispers,

a reflection of what we’ve lost.

I stand there,

watching the rain bead up,

a dance of water on metal,

how something once vibrant

becomes a skeleton of life,

each rust spot a scar,

reminding me of roads not taken.