Police – The Racers Poem by Paul Warren

Both young men stood at the bottom of the hill
In the middle of the town and worked out their deal
They would swap their motor-cycles and each race
Up to the top of the hill to test their skill and pace

So they started from a stop and accelerated hard
Each not wanting to give to each other a yard
About half-way up the hill a mother waited
Looked to other traffic with the riders who were fated

Her car had a load of children who were all excited
And the noise meant not a good judgement exacted
By this time the motor-cycles were going fast
And couldn’t stop for the car as they approached at a gasp

The fastest hit the front wheel of the car
And spun it around in a half circle so far
Into the line of the other motorcycle’s path
Both riders were thrown over in the speed’s wrath

The first one broke his leg and lost skin
The second one skidded into a pole by his chin
When we got there the second was in the gutter
Screaming his head off with more pain than he could utter

The car and children was stopped on the road
With bumps and bruises with luck that truly showed
The second one was loaded still screaming away
Until the morphine was injected so the pain didn’t stay

So the wash up for all in the crash
Was one whose brain was just a mash
The other with a permanent stiff leg
A car load of kids who escaped a death peg

There is always a moral to stories told
By those who have seen these things truly sold
Don’t travel at speed on a motor cycle around
For you may end up screaming lying on the ground.

© Paul Warren Poetry