He peeped through the showroom glass And observed everyone who passed In side, all his fantasy bikes were there But he had no money to be a buyer
Every night he sat against the door To lure But he daily worked as a seller Bike ; His only encouragement only compeller
His passion for bikes daily pushed him To work from dawn to dim From being teenager to late middle aged He worked and earned wage
Till he gathered this much to buy a bike Now He had more priorities like Children's education, and his own health How could he spend his wealth?
He turned old but not his love for his bikes Despite such an age he admired them and couldn't force himself to dislike
But they say the fruits of patience and hardwork is sweet And life doesn't end incomplete His son with his quater month sallery Brought him to the bike gallery
They bought it and rode it to home And he felt the best contentment in his last few roams.