Bikers are Human.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem I wrote for my friends, I have many biker friends that I have met through my dad. As I sit in the bar I think what a joy it is to see the respect they have for my dad.

Submitted: September 01, 2014

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Submitted: September 01, 2014

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He sat upon his bike of blue,

Looking around as if he had nothing to do,

A Biker true to every form,

Looks around for things untold.

He holds his head up as he is proud,

The Biker runing with his crowed,

You may think bikers have a bad rap,

But that is exaggerated and not on the map.

Most have family yes they can be mean,

But most are sweet and have a heart unseen,

God loves each and every biker,

No matter what it intells even if its darker.

The Biker runs down the street,

Many of them you don't see,

The patches upon there deep dark vest,

Shows what club they seems the best,

There is red and gold for the Bandiots,

Blue and black for The Soul Reapers,

There are many patches in this world,

Many who are not know but have come to this place,

To find a fun place to rest and relax,

And find Gods love in the mix.

A black bike drives down the road,

The man on the back is a friend untold,

He brings Gods word to these Bikers,

And shows them that there is none other.

He shows them Gods love,

He shows that He cares,

To the Bikers that is  something that is not always there.

So heres my story heres my life,

God loves the Bikers and each and every one of us.


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