Who are you?
Are you a friend or foe?
I asked the rider in black.
Depends on your state of mind,
He cheekily replied.
I am what you want me to be,
When you are drowning in the ,
quicksand of despair and gloom,
I am your go-to guy.
But when he looks you in the eye and,
tenderly brushes a wayward lock off,
your pretty face,
I am a forgotten memory.
You may be fickle but, I am not.
At your service, always hopeful,
ever ready to give you a joyride.
I walk beside you, vigilant, watchful,
to lend a helping hand if need be.