Saturday, August 22

Ride On...

It’s a story I thought, I forgot
Till from the omnipotent, a reminder, I got
"You don’t have to question me ever, my dear,
You never should let reside in you, this fear."

It’s an account of the time, I last hit the road
Quite literally; my arm, my knee I broke,
Yet the adrenaline, my doctors confirm, that I have in excess,
Had kept me rolling, till, blood, I had lost enough

Not quite my pain, not even the mud on me, smeared,
It was the scratch, the dent, the blow my ride, for me, had to bear,
That kept my brain busy, thinking hard, for a long while,
Till darkness came, for a moment I lost my sight,

I grasped it’s not a joke, not the stunt on the TV,
The denim I wore was red, the blood loss had made me giddy,
The spot where I fell, had puddles of red,
Yet all I attended, a short rendezvous with death,

It’s a spirit they say, that priceless virtue,
Of a biker at heart, that pulled me through,
And so I persisted, my conviction unyielding,
And on and on, kept rolling, my ride, unfretted, unruffled.

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