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The Motorcycle Gang

A venue was set
Folks came from miles around
Just to hear the music & get down
The band was wailing on their guitar
A solo was underway
The brews were flowing
Suddenly the leader of the pack rolled in
It was the captain along with his faithful regime
All those Harley's on a free spirit scene
The smell of pot was everywhere what a blur
It was all sex, drugs & rock and roll
The gang circled around
A white flag was flown
There was a specific truce to part
They were running with the wolf pack
Feelings that there never coming back
Grab a lady and take her for a swing
They all carried a piece
Such rebels on the burning strip
A life on a pleasurable trip
A soul based on fun out on the run
No faith based all run on sight
No laboring for the legal tender
For that is there right
Give the finger to the fuzz
Leather pants with eyes in a trance
Eyes filled with tombstones in their head
Some have said it's the walking dead
A rap sheet that runs a mile long
Take it to the limit is there favorite song
A free will with a free bird spirit intact
They were all legends in there own right
There the sons of thunder rolling clowns in life's big circus

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Comments Ive said
love the return of Rhyme
appreciate the story poems

and yes..
The Great Jester is a part
of the 'circus'
I remember loving listening
to Leonard Skynard back
in the day...
still got HOLLIES
'Long cool women in a black dress'
on my phone when I 'ride'
to town and back

great ode poem to freedom

thanks Bros!

Mr Wolf!

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