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The Busted Knuckle Chronicles

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3rd Edition 2018 

Thursday, 23 June 2016 00:37

Old School Bikers a Dying Breed - Poem by Wayne Harvey

old skoolThis poem was brought on as I had just seen a guy ride by with a new Honda made chopper, with a pair of brand new white Runners and a cut off jean vest and a sleeve tattoo.

He was proud as a peacock, sitting there with a scowl. But with me knowing that he has never woke up beside his ride with a major hangover, looking over and some of his bro's are laid out under their ride hurting from the night before, or has he woke up with a black eye and a tooth missing because the night before he was there to back his brother's even if he knew he would lose the fight. But I'm not putting down those who may ride a Honda or another type of ride as long as your riding is the answer, but thinking he was a old school hard core biker because of his new Biker garb and just learned how to ride, as well as showing off his new sleeve tattoo. This is what I saw to be so wrong. Don't try to be something your not. An old school Bikers is a term that one earns, and knows who they are or where they came from and will not change with the passing fad. Now that I got this off my chest,lol checkout the short poem I wrote for the old School Biker. Hope you enjoy...

Old School Bikers a Dying Breed

The times have changed,
From living to ride,
To slapping the curbs,
Not knowing the meaning of pride,

It use to be Brother to Brother,
Beside each other riding down the road,
Having each others back,
Under pressure, never to fold,

Our lips were sealed,
When questioned by the man,
Ignoring their plea's,
Like an old school Biker would stand,

It was the time of Freedom,
And the wind in our face,
Together roaming the highways,
And riding at our own pace,

Now it's high-top runners,
And a tattered Harley shirt,
Thinking they are a Biker,
With a new tattoo and some fake road dirt,

What happened to those of us,
Who Lived only to ride,
And the feeling of brotherhood,
And a pocket full of pride,

Those times are seemed to be lost,
Behind new tats, and cut-off vests,
Trying to be someone their not,
We are not impressed ,

We see through their made up life,
And thinking the are old school bikers,
They could never hold a candle,
Or even to be asked to be a striker,

It takes more than a Bike ,
Or a Tattoo and oily jeans,
To be an old school Biker,
Or even to know what the word means,

I feel that we are a dying breed,
As now it's quantity instead of quality,
But we know still deep in our hearts,
That this old school and will never take a knee.

There are still a few of us left,
That are old school and brotherhood,
Remembering where we came from,
And the true meaning for what we stood, 

And until my last breath,
And this old school biker is put in the ground ,
Hoping that even when I'm gone,
That there is old school Bikers still around.

By: Wayne Harvey 

& dedicated to those who Lived to ride ,and to be solid to your brothers, those who were tight Lipped when asked questions,and to those who would take a bullet for your brother, I am sorry to say that these types of Brothers are a dying breed, June.06/2016 {poormans copyright}

Last modified on Friday, 24 June 2016 02:34

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