Just A Biker

I saw you, hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But you didn't see me put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.


I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk. But you didn't see me playing Santa at the local mall. I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant when you saw my bike parked out front. But you didn't see me attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.


I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I rode by. But you didn't see me riding behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window. I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children. But you didn't see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you stare at my long hair. But you didn't see me and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love. I saw you roll your eyes at our leather jackets and gloves. But you didn't see me and my brothers donate our old ones to those that had none.


I saw you look in fright at my tattoos. But you didn't see me cry as my children where born or have their name written over and in my heart. I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But you didn't see me going home to be with my family. I saw you, complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But you didn't see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.


I saw you yelling at your kids in the car. But you didn't see me pat my child's hands knowing she was safe behind me. I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But you didn't see me squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn. I saw you race down the road in the rain. But you didn't see me get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But you didn't see me trying to turn right. I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But you didn't see me leave the road. I saw you, waiting impatiently
for my friends to pass. But you didn't see me. I wasn't there.

I saw you go home to your family. But you didn't see me. Because I died that day you cut me off. I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family. But you didn't see me.

Repost this around in hopes that people will understand the biker community.

If you don't repost this, it sucks to be you. I hope you never lose someone that rides.

EVEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE US, RESPECT OUR RIGHTS TO RIDE
WHAT WE CHOOSE AND TAKE A FEW EXTRA SECONDS TO BE SURE WE ARE NOT IN 'YOUR' WAY. Have a good day and a better tomorrow!




Let me say one thing first. HARLEY DAVIDSON, baby! Now that I got that out of the way, I am 46 y.o., I have two son's 17 & 13, they are my true joy's. I live in S.E. Kansas, but have lived in several other states also. I truly enjoy being around my friends and in the wind! If you don't know what, "In The Wind" means, don't ask. You would never understand! I love to cook. I am the oldest of 5 boys. I am very protective of my friends & family. I like making new friends, but that's not saying that everyone I meet, will I call them friend. When I meet a special lady, she comes first and all my friends know that. I have been told that I am a dying breed. I like giving massages & back rubs. I like treating a lady like a LADY! But, there is something to be said about a lady with a little bit of a wild streak, also. But then again, I do like being shown a little respect also. I like going on trips with friends on our bikes. There is nothing like hitting the road with your friends and a special lady, spending a few days camping. Damn, someone foregot their swim suit, guess we all had better go skinny dipping!



A very dear friend showed this to me and it touched me so much that I had to share it with everyone!
T’was the night before Christmas,
He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house,
Made of plaster and stone

I had come down the chimney,
With presents to give,
And to see just who,
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures,
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought,
Came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary.
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor,
In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured,
A Canadian soldier.

Was this the hero,
Of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?

I realized the families,
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers,
Who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate,
A bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed freedom,
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder,
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve,
In a land far from home.

The very thought brought
A tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees,
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened,
And I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry.
This life is my choice.”

“I fight for freedom,
I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God,
My country, my corps.”

The soldier rolled over,
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still,
And we both shivered,
From the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave,
On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor,
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice, soft and pure,
Whispered, “Carry on Santa,
It’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”

One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right,
“Merry Christmas my friend,
And to all a good night.”

This poem was written by a peace keeping soldier
stationed overseas.

Please, Christmas is nigh and some credit is due
To our service men and women
For us being able to celebrate these Festivities.

Let’s try in this small way to pay
A tiny bit of what we owe.
Stop …
Think of our heroes, living and dead,
Who sacrificed themselves
For us.




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