I sit in a class of ninety.
All alone like a man in the middle of the ocean.
I sit here, thinking;
Thinking about my past, my future
And how this miserable present will pass me.
I hope. I always do.
For a better life;
A life of the Angels
The Angels who wear black
Who hear only one sound
The sound of their Harleys.
I will ride with the Angels one day
To the ends of the world I will ride -
To peace, to pleasure, to freedom.