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To Live or Die 2020

  • Poetry in Paradise
  • Feb 9, 2020
  • 2 min read

Seventeen years old and my first road bike

A couple of mates in cars with girls for a hike

A pack on our bikes all about the same age

Filled with the same bravado and the same rage

The need to be first to get there quicker

See who is brave who’s skin is thicker

We all saw the Undertaker take on Stone

Wyatt and Billy died by the roadside alone

We were Nine-foot-tall and bullet proof

The arrogance of hormones mixed with youth

The race was on to get to the party first

Really we all were just chasin skirt

One mate had died just a week before

Promised our parents we’d speed no more

We left the pub the cars left out front

To overtake them we’d take the punt

One by one we started to past

I wasn’t the first and I wasn’t the last

When my path to pass became near

I hit a drum that was not real clear

I went up into the air and floated around

Then with a thud I hit the ground

I got hit by two cars on the other side

All of my friends thought I had died

A beautiful girl named Kathy came to my aid

She lifted my helmet by the road where I laid

I saw her pretty face and heavenly smile

I knew then I’d be around for a while

I survived with a tiny scratch on my nose

Blood in my mouth and some on my clothes

My bike was a wreck could not be saved

Mum was happy I was not in a grave

I bought another bike then so many more

Then two more accidents laid instore

I’m still here today and I love my bike

I keep on riding for it’s the centre of life

Copyright Poetry in Paradise Reg Tm # 1028534

 
 
 

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