Danger danger
Motorcycle roars chop through the air
Hair on the arms stand on end
Chrome and the colour of lifeblood
Reflecting off the streetlights
Metallic wonder
And gasoline
Ripping through downtown
Like shattering glass
Dozens of them
Maybe hundreds
Buzzing like automatic swarms of bees
Fueled by gasoline and cigarette smoke
And a few shots from the night before
Daisies lean on the drive by
Shaking in fear
Of the machine beasts
The world pauses for the roar and the rip
The tire squeal and motor rev
Clad in black
Like the grim reaper on metal steeds
Seeking hell without the intent
What's your purpose here
You're scaring the locals
Just driving through is all
We ain't doing nobody any harm
We're just weary travelers
You understand that don't you
We won't be here long
On the news
Three men found dead in a motel on the verge of being shutdown
In the shady part of town
One bullet each
Right between the eyes
Nobody saw anything
No witnesses
But if anybody can come forth with evidence
Call the local police station
The roar wages on
Those angry beasts of gasoline
On to the next city
The next order
The next sight to see
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 4
Poetryhello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...
