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Biker poem

Some think bikers are mean.  Some dressed in leathers and others in jeans.

You don't like our patches or the clothes that we wear. You hate our

Bandannas and you hate our long hair.

You don't like our scooters and our loud noisy pipes. You think we're not

Loyal to the stars and stripes.  You don't like our patches that are worn on

our vests. You think we're so different from all the rest.

But the truth is, Mister, we're kind of alike.  You drive a car and I ride a

bike.  You have no tattoos painted on your arm but we fought side by side

over in Nam. So the next time your children are running around enjoying their

freedom and the fun that they've found.  Remember us bikers and all that we do.

We feed our lost veterans, we're Red, white and blue!

We bring toys for tots and toys for a smile by riding our bikes for miles and miles you see, us bikers have never forgot our homeless veterans and our homeless tots.

We are loyal to our clubs and true to our bro's.  We will always wear black from our heads to our toes.  Society once said that long hair was for fags But you'll never see a biker burning a flag.

Now the tattoos and leather you don't understand, stands for free

Independence that we bikers demand our long hair and patches and bikeswith loud pipes is a tribute to our freedom, the Stars and Stripes.

So before you make up your mind on just what I might be take a look in the

mirror and what do you see?  The man that you see that is staring right back

is not too much different from that biker in black.

Ride Safe, Ride Free!!