Bikers are all the same,

Dress alike, not really tough

When fearing rain.

Their women,

Heartsick and rough,

Breasts of better days

Hold on to their man.

Freedom is just an exhaust

When believing

Riding is enough.


You have to lay the bike down

Choose what to bruise,

And see what survives the gravel ground.




Categories: Life, Poetry

Tags: , , , , ,

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