I was riding my bike,
Thinking about the worst days in my life.
Then the cold Breeze blew in the summer heat.
I looked up front,
A scooty in my front,
with something shining.
It was her,Brightly riding.
Now the cold Breeze made sense
It was her golden presence.
Our eyes met.
Each with a different spark.
Her dad was behind her,
With his tyrant eyes scolding mine.

Our eyes met only for a minute
and...