Puncture

It’s no fun when you get a puncture on your bike

It’s a bloody inconvenience of which I don’t like

Hissing away laughing in your face

The bloody bike, it’s a terrible disgrace


It doesn’t make it easy with its tricky derailleur 

My frustrating failure very poor behaviour 

By the time the wheel’s off I’m up to the eye balls

In black oily muck, when a passer by calls


“Do you need a hand” “No Thanks”I replied

Pride before a fall, I was dying inside

The tyre decided it didn’t want to depart

From the wheel, so I couldn’t even start


To repair the stubborn thing at first

But some elbow grease and I gave it my best

And all of a sudden the tyre gave way...passed my test

Out came the inner tube all limp and apologetic

Getting annoyed with this seemed rather pathetic 


Soon the new one was eased into place 

Ready to be pumped my saving grace

With some more clever dexterity the wheel was back on

And the battle against the bike I’d finally won. 


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