I Could Ride Less, I Won’t.

Ride to Live, Live to Ride

by Randolph A Lewis

The city sleeps.
My iron heart does not.
One kick, one roar—
The static thought is shot.

The painted line, a whispered verse,
The engine hums the tune.
A freedom that’s been patented
Beneath a desert moon.

It isn’t chrome. It isn’t steel.
It’s something they can’t see:
A borrowed piece of gravity
That only answers me.

So yes, I could ride less.
I could choose to stay.
But I was built for open road,
Not just to see the day.

I was made to chase the Current
Where the silent spirits call.
To have the wind for company
And nothing else at all.

So yes! I could ride less. I won’t, though.