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May 2015
Meh speed is fun, no not the drug.
Wish that came earlier.
****** up my race on a ******* attack.
Finished off the back.
The ******* scrub, placed or some ****.
I didn’t listen.
We agreed before to be at each other necks.
We like it that way.
I should have made him feel like ****.
All he does is sit.
People ******* hate his guts.
He is fourteen.
Solely responsible for ******* up his future.
I try to help.


I might try to back him up, or burry him.
I’m not sure yet.
His dad is nice, his mom is full of ****.
I do extra to shut her up.
His dad cheered for me at the race.
No **** I’m trying.

I thought his sister had a crush on me.
She’s like thirteen.
I kinda, almost, at one stage liked her.
We are tied together.
They are a tight family and he is stuck to my wheel.
He *****.
Tremendous respect for that ***** though.
I know how it hurts.
A ******* monster attacking your soul.
Burnt legs, crispy spirits.
The monster tells me I’m going the right way.
Can’t stop.
This was a poem really celebrating my rivalry with this kid on bikes. We race in complete opposite ways, came from the same program he stayed I left, anyway hope you enjoy.
Written by
JM McCann  NY
(NY)   
1.3k
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