Enemy 

My old bike

With broken spokes and pike

I could not master

Or even go faster.

Rhythm was not mine

I couldn't ride in a straight line.

So my bitter foe

He hurt my shin and my toe.

Training wheels were a need

Advice I never did heed.

Handle bars were let go

Balance did not grow.

Goodbye bike, I walk every mile

With more than a cheerful smile.