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The trail is rough,
But I absorb it all,
Every bump, dip and curve,
And let it become me.
My hands rattle on the bars of my bike,
As I take on this course.
With speed and energy I never knew.

The scenery astounds.
A stream tries to keep up,
The trees watch from above,
The grass plays at my ankles,
The birds cheer me on.
As I try to blend,
Into the scenery.

The burn in my thighs,
The wind in my face,
The rustle of my hair,
The fast steady motion,
Is the rhythmic beat,
Of the world apart.

The World Apart Ash Berger
Ash Berger, 12
Concord, North Carolina

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