Monday, April 18, 2022

the bicycle rempits

 

The bicycle Rempits

Hawking the highway

In the dead of the night

Selling their souls to the devils


They come out in the wee hours

The young adults gearing up to fly

On the highway of their choice

They want to show how good they are


They want to make history

In their lives riding their modified bicycles

The yell of joy in the wee hour of the night

Satan is always welcoming more souls don't they know?


In the silent of the night

In the whirring of the wind

The bicycle Rempits throw caution away

They want to fly like superman


On the highway of silence

The whirring of the sound

The danger isn't in the vocabulary

The sign of death waiting to happen


The bicycle Rempits

The parents play innocence

The bicycles are physically presence

If only they ask questions!

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