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.
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