As a youth
a loop was a thing
I made at the end of the string
that secured my shoes.
Papa taught me how,
and momma approved,
and I felt
a deep sense of pride
and accomplishment.
Today my loops
are meandering paths
over rugged terrain
where my legs burn and gasps
of dry dusty air do barely suffice
as I rip through the woods
over trails on a bike,
and I still feel the pride
at the end of my ride
of accomplishment.
-HymnAgen
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