Rust and Remembrance

In the garage's dim light, I found an old bike,

the paint chipped and peeling, its frame lost to strike.

Each rusted bolt holds a story untold,

a testament to summers when life felt so bold.

Scrubbing at memories, the grime flecks my hand,

I think of the roads where we laughed, felt so grand.

Yet, corrosion creeps deeper, just like the past,

it layers our hearts, clinging tight, holding fast.