When I Were A Motorcycle
A story of Greensboro, North Carolina as told by Billy Jones and a talking motorcycle.
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Saturday, December 22, 2012
Andes
We rode for days, rode for nights,
my seat was worn threadbare
stopping only for gasoline,
sometimes gasping just for air
while crossing mountains oh so high
I feared that I might stall,
hoping he'd not fall asleep,
hoping we'd not fall.
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