Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Rider

How in the middle of the road I found myself,

Kissing the asphalt albeit the helmet shell,

A ride home on a rainy day, at rush hour,

Turned something sweet into sour.



The seconds count, the faces I could not see.

After tumbling down the road to recovery,

The world came crushing down, painfully,

And the wind spreading the fire in me.



The heavy crutches I already left behind,

The love felt lifted this broken peace of mind.

Announcers of doom keep playing their drums,

I’m still turned on when I hear the engine hums.



The sun shines on the chrome, morning again.

I miss the wind, as an old, dear friend,

That revived the flame that was dying in me,

And opened the road to the daring to be…

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