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My Friends Poem
dav1965
Member Posts: 26,543 ✭✭✭
1st one I've written in awhile
Guess you write what you feel
Come Get It
By Bob ?Bikerwolf? Bryant
Got the Bike out for a ride today
The solo type to blow troubles away
All types of thoughts filling my head
The biggest one ?When will America be dead??
The angrier I got the faster the bike rolled on
Just a long haired Biker jammin? a highway alone
I thought about the shape the USA is in
I again cranked the throttle knowing her destruction is from within
Stopped down by the river to burn my last smoke
Thought about people burning our flag, like it?s a sick joke
Thought about how they want to take my guns
And most of my money so there?s none left for fun
They want to take my heritage and own my soul
But Brother let me tell you that mess is getting old
I looked down in shame at the way they want to do away with God
Then I raised my head and gave him a nod
I laid my helmet on the ground and unbound my hair
Hit the black ribbon feeling free and smiling without a care
Cause if what they?re looking are Patriotic rivals
Then let them try to take our guns and our Bibles
Copyright 7/27/15 All Rights Reserved
Guess you write what you feel
Come Get It
By Bob ?Bikerwolf? Bryant
Got the Bike out for a ride today
The solo type to blow troubles away
All types of thoughts filling my head
The biggest one ?When will America be dead??
The angrier I got the faster the bike rolled on
Just a long haired Biker jammin? a highway alone
I thought about the shape the USA is in
I again cranked the throttle knowing her destruction is from within
Stopped down by the river to burn my last smoke
Thought about people burning our flag, like it?s a sick joke
Thought about how they want to take my guns
And most of my money so there?s none left for fun
They want to take my heritage and own my soul
But Brother let me tell you that mess is getting old
I looked down in shame at the way they want to do away with God
Then I raised my head and gave him a nod
I laid my helmet on the ground and unbound my hair
Hit the black ribbon feeling free and smiling without a care
Cause if what they?re looking are Patriotic rivals
Then let them try to take our guns and our Bibles
Copyright 7/27/15 All Rights Reserved
Comments
By:
A back country road, A crippled old church
Scoot parked in the shade of mammoth old Birch
Ridin? the wind, his heart cold as ice
Thought this a good place to rest for the night
The ragged old church all weathered and worn
He knew it was built, years before he was born
He wondered how many hypocrites had walked through it?s doors
Had cast not just one stone, but one and many more.
He lit him a smoke, and started a fire
Un-strapped his bedroll, took a look at his tires
Satisfied that the rubber, was still showing tread
He sat down to rest, lit another for his head
He stared at the church, as the smoke filled his mind
Bringing back demons from roads left behind
He rose to his feet, headed to the church
That sat in the shade of the mammoth old Birch
The doors were missing so he walked on in
Wondered are old bikers welcome, let out a grin
Through broken glass, days last light shined
He thought to himself, nothing much left behind
The only thing left that had not paid times cost
At the front of the church, was a solid wooden cross
It was just barely hanging on the ragged old wall
Never less it was hanging, as if it just wouldn?t fall
The old road tramp notice that the demons in his soul
Seemed to have backed off, and his heart felt less cold
For the first time in years he didn?t feel so lost
As he stood there looking at that old wooden cross
He saw an old photo in the corner on the ground
He walked over to it, picked it up as he kneeled down
In the picture was a young man, an old bike and seedling Birch
Standing beside A beautiful new church
The old biker was amazed as he muttered ? Well, I?ll be ?
He recognized the scoot as being from the year twenty three
He flipped the old photo, there was writing on the back
The first thing to catch his eye was a signature ? Reverend Jack ?
The old biker laughed before he started to read
Partially at the photo, more so from the weed
He glanced once again at the battered front wall
He was truly amazed at the cross that wouldn?t fall
He turned his attention again to the words on the back
The ones he knew that were written by ?Reverend Jack ?
It Read,
To my side is my brand new church
In my hand, a seedling birch
I plant this tree for the simple reason
It will grow tall and strong throughout the seasons
Birch is a strong wood, as is my faith
It will stand tall for many a day
It is also the reason I used it to build my cross
So it will last, for souls that are lost
For I know that one day, a wanderer like I used to be
Will seek the shade of a mighty tree
I want him to feel at home if he enters my church
Therefore I?m planting this young seedling birch
May it give him the shade that he needs
As he seeks relief from the days heat
If this traveler?s soul should be lost
May he enter my church and see the wooden cross
Let him know it was built for him
So that his future will not look grim
As he rides away may he always think back
Of the shade and cross supplied by ? Reverend Jack ?
May this traveler let his past go
Make amends with the demons filling his soul
Realize that God?s on his side
If in his heart, he?ll just abide
Now take care my brother
As you go on your way
Just always remember
What ? Brother Jack ? Had to say
The old biker slept, peacefully that night
As he realized Reverend Jack was right
Next morning before he hit the wind
He emptied his weed with a big ol? grin
He said ? Jack thanks for building that cross?
?It has saved, one more soul that was lost?
?Also thanks for planting that old birch for shade?
In this old bikers life, a difference you?ve made?
The leaves on the old birch blew as the biker hit the road
As if ?Reverend Jack was saying ? God ride with ya bro?
Scoot parked in the shade of mammoth old Birch
Ridin' the wind, his heart cold as ice
Thought this a good place to rest for the night
The ragged old church all weathered and worn
He knew it was built, years before he was born
He wondered how many hypocrites had walked through it's doors
Had cast not just one stone, but one and many more.
He lit him a smoke, and started a fire
Un-strapped his bedroll, took a look at his tires
Satisfied that the rubber, was still showing tread
He sat down to rest, lit another for his head
He stared at the church, as the smoke filled his mind
Bringing back demons from roads left behind
He rose to his feet, headed to the church
That sat in the shade of the mammoth old Birch
The doors were missing so he walked on in
Wondered are old bikers welcome, let out a grin
Through broken glass, days last light shined
He thought to himself, nothing much left behind
The only thing left that had not paid times cost
At the front of the church, was a solid wooden cross
It was just barely hanging on the ragged old wall
Never less it was hanging, as if it just wouldn't fall
The old road tramp notice that the demons in his soul
Seemed to have backed off, and his heart felt less cold
For the first time in years he didn't feel so lost
As he stood there looking at that old wooden cross
He saw an old photo in the corner on the ground
He walked over to it, picked it up as he kneeled down
In the picture was a young man, an old bike and seedling Birch
Standing beside A beautiful new church
The old biker was amazed as he muttered " Well, I'll be "
He recognized the scoot as being from the year twenty three
He flipped the old photo, there was writing on the back
The first thing to catch his eye was a signature " Reverend Jack "
The old biker laughed before he started to read
Partially at the photo, more so from the weed
He glanced once again at the battered front wall
He was truly amazed at the cross that wouldn't fall
He turned his attention again to the words on the back
The ones he knew that were written by "Reverend Jack "
It Read,
To my side is my brand new church
In my hand, a seedling birch
I plant this tree for the simple reason
It will grow tall and strong throughout the seasons
Birch is a strong wood, as is my faith
It will stand tall for many a day
It is also the reason I used it to build my cross
So it will last, for souls that are lost
For I know that one day, a wanderer like I used to be
Will seek the shade of a mighty tree
I want him to feel at home if he enters my church
Therefore I'm planting this young seedling birch
May it give him the shade that he needs
As he seeks relief from the days heat
If this traveler's soul should be lost
May he enter my church and see the wooden cross
Let him know it was built for him
So that his future will not look grim
As he rides away may he always think back
Of the shade and cross supplied by " Reverend Jack "
May this traveler let his past go
Make amends with the demons filling his soul
Realize that God's on his side
If in his heart, he'll just abide
Now take care my brother
As you go on your way
Just always remember
What " Brother Jack " Had to say
The old biker slept, peacefully that night
As he realized Reverend Jack was right
Next morning before he hit the wind
He emptied his weed with a big ol' grin
He said " Jack thanks for building that cross"
"It has saved, one more soul that was lost"
"Also thanks for planting that old birch for shade"
In this old bikers life, a difference you've made"
The leaves on the old birch blew as the biker hit the road
As if "Reverend Jack was saying " God ride with ya bro"