The Biker

A young man gets off work,

And sets off for home.

It’s late, and the roads are dark,

But still he starts biking. 

He can hear the cars driving past him on the highway above,

And he can’t help but hear the honking as the cars laughing at his misfortune,

Having to bike the seven miles to home.

The signs on some buildings shine,

(Even) though the boy knows they aren’t open.

The road reaches a stop sign,

And the boy continues going straight,

Only to be hit by a driver who later claims the boy had no lights,

Though he did, and they shined brighter than that man’s own car lights,

That man’s car lights… which now shine brighter than that boy's eyes.

When I wrote this poem, I biked seven miles to get to work. While biking home I noted a bright sign for a daycare I knew was closed, and I heard a car honk and it sounded eerily similar to someone cackling.