Hayley Huntress, "I Can Be Good In My Own Way"



“Look at me.
No, really look at me.
What do you see?

Handle bars that are torn.
A wet seat decorated in rips and wrinkles.
A broken reflector.
Two worn tires.
Squeaky brakes.

All covered in a nasty color that you know wasn’t even cool in the 80’s.

To you, I’m a “rolling turd on two wheels,”
A trash heap,
A death trap,
An All Pro three speed likely to fall apart at no speed.

When I said look at me,
You looked at me.
You looked at what I presented,
Only thought about what you saw.
You never looked at me to see me,
You never gave me a chance to show you.

You didn’t see that once, I was a fun ride,
A great adventure,
A memory that will last a lifetime to the boy down the street.

You don’t know that I’m someone’s way around because they can’t afford gas prices.

You didn’t see that I helped a man loose weight when his life depended on it.

You couldn’t tell that I helped that girl chase away her doubts when her life was falling apart.

Every dent, scratch, and paint chip has a story, whether you take the time to read it or not.
Its there.

821 stories that you don’t know.
Now 821 stories that you wont know because all you did was take my picture and walk away.

Look at me.
No really look at me.
Through the dents.
Under the scratches,
Around the paint chips.

Read me story and know that:
I can be good in my own way.”

I’m not a bicycle.
I’m not that rundown bike.
But we have things in common.

I’m not a beauty queen,
I’m not the prettiest.
I’m not the fastest on a track,
I’m not the sturdiest or the most stable.

If someone pushes me, I fall over.
If someone hits me hard enough, I fall apart.
I shake, I stumble, I wobble.

When I fall, just like that bicycle, I have someone to pick me up.
Someone to put my pieces back together and get my gears in place.

Broken, torn, falling apart, pieced together, worn, lived on.
Sentimental value.

I might be all those things put together, but it means something.
I’ve lived through, lived with, lived without, and lived on.
Its my story.
Everyone has their own.
Mine has a few rips and wrinkles with a squeaky break.
But, I can be good in my own way.