My Dad’s Bicycle – A Poem

My dad got on his bicycle
but then, he fell down.
I think he might have bruised his knee.
He got up with a frown.

My dad got on his bicycle
but he fell off again.
He landed on some bumps,
and his thigh got poked by his pen.

He saw the problem, called for me
and said, “We’ll make some deals—
Happy Meals, if you tell where
you put the training wheels.”

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