Another Episode of Bike Lust

I mere hour spent on the local trails,
I find myself thinking of sales.
What penance could I perform,
to put me on the path of reform.

Oh, I made it through kettles.
I mustered up an over moraines.
All the while, grinning.
All the while, suffering.

My fork was not to keen,
Anytime I went to lean.
Every rock I hit, I heard a creak or a chime.
I worried it was past it's prime.

After days of all this bike lust,
I decided to blow off the dust.
Hours of surgery on my mag twenty-one.
All clean, now I'm done.

Was the penance right?
I cleaned with all my might.
I don't know if it can be saved.
For one more day, I can ride trails unpaved.

Oh Rita, you put your wiles on display
At a price I might hastily pay.
I can't say what will arise.
I'm relieved I took measures to compromise.


(Apologies if you made it this far. I can't go on.)