He rides a worn-out bike,
As fast as he could
As the rain he expected,
Happened as it should
So he pants as he breathe,
Pedalling with his feet
Sketchbook on the basket,
He hopes it won\'t get wet
So he stopped by a shed
And look at the pages of it dead
So he pedals once more,
But with a resolve and calm in his eyes
And soon realized by it, the drought,
The tranquility that it has brought