It was the dying days of summer

when the brain seems to be dummer,

and he decided to ride his bike.

He could feel fall approaching,

Seemingly reproaching

all hope of freedom to be lost.

He felt the pressure of homework

that clouded and lurked,

but he pushed it out his mind.

The sky was blue and the clouds just grew

as if they had no care in the world.

He approached the top of the hill he so loved,

pausing at the top perhaps waiting to be shoved.

His heart wrenched as he caught the whiff of a grill,

and his mind drifted to the summer and he milled.

A breeze blew and gave him a chill

which brought him back to his daily drill.

He looked down the long hill

that so looked a great distance.

Making up his mind he left the beautiful smell

and let himself roll down the long hill,

pushing himself along when he went still.

It was the dying days of summer

when the brain seems to be dummer,

and he decided to ride his bike.