borrowed Basar Hatinaz@flickr
By the window a lonely young man stares
The years on the night time racing gone
The broken leg reminded him so......
All because of pride and glory
One hand amputated
He knows he lost his punch
Why didn't he think about it?
Challenging to prove he was a man?
He cocked his ears
As the sound of motorcycles roaring pass
The wayward guys on modified machines
He shakes his head realizing his own folly
Now he stares alone
In the night blinkering tears
Instead of a man he becomes invalid
Squatting in his parent's home
Now he whispers to the wind
“Tell the young guys stop playing
Once you hit the low patches
Don't be like me invalid for life!”
No comments:
Post a Comment