Miles Passed By
By: Bob “Bikerwolf” Bryant
Roads traveled, Lessons learned
Righteous Runs, Crash and Burns
Scarred body, Wounded Soul
Miles passed by as two wheels rolled
Friends enter, Friends leave
Sometimes happy, Sometimes peeved
Yesterdays passed, Feeling old
Miles passed by as two wheels rolled
Hopefully destined, To always roam
Ride with Brothers, Ride Alone
Always proud, Sometimes to bold
Miles passed by as two wheels rolled
Partied Hard, Worked hard too
Did my time, Paid my dues
Always broke, Never struck gold
Miles passed by as two wheels rolled
Winds blow, Feeling the breeze
Arms stretched, bended knees
Scarred body, Wounded soul
Miles passed by as two wheels rolled
Copyright 2009/ All rights reserved
FINAL THOUGHTS
By: Bob”Bikerwolf” Bryant
We watched as he listened to the wind
Told us it beckoned his name
His heart as always was still ready
But his body was riddled by pain
His mind drifted as he closed his eyes
His mind reversed cruel time
He saw his hair a little longer
He saw a young lady so fine
He remembered the feel of the cool summer nights
He could feel the winding roads
He tasted the lips of his young lover
He remembered the biker code
He relived the nights underneath the stars
The feeling of brotherhood in the air
He had longed for that feeling again
In the days when there were no cares
He felt a feeling come over his body
As he saw her sweet face once again
The night the angel of death told him
“She’s been waiting for you my friend”
You could hear the thunder in the sky that night
You could feel the wind blow free
You could tell he was riding beside the reaper
His free arm resting on her knee
Copyright 2004 All Rights Reserved
FEELIN’ ALONE
By Bob”Bikerwolf” Bryant
His face as weathered
As his old leather vest
Now days not belonging
Older than the rest
Memories of Brothers
Gone on to pave the way
Down the highway to heaven
He knows he’ll travel one day
He’s still a tough one
You can see it in his eyes
If the young ones try to take him
They’re in for a big surprise
He’ll never give a damn
About todays modern world
He’d once again just like to find
A good old fashioned girl
Sometimes he sits and wishes
He had died long ago
Back when he was younger
Back, when felt like a Bro’
But he’ll keep on riding
Grey hair flying in the wind
Till the day he goes to heaven
Ridin’ that thundering “V” twin
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved
Have You?
By : Bob “Bikerwolf” Bryant
Have you ever heard the thunder
Of straight pipes late at night
Have you ever seen the highway
Illuminated by one headlight
Have you ever felt the rain
Putting a sting upon your skin
Have you ever had a true brother
That wasn’t your average friend
Have you ever twisted the throttle
Because the road it laid out straight
Have you ever done crazy stuff
Some call it tempting fate
Have you ever felt the feeling
Of the wind against your face
Have you ever just gone riding
Not heading anyplace
Have you ever loved a woman
On the ground, underneath the stars
Have you ever grabbed cold iron
While looking through the bars
Have you ever stopped to wonder
What makes your soul so free
Have you ever just pulled over
To admire the sights you see
Have you ever been arrested
Because of who you are
Have you ever waved to children
As they pass by in a car
Have you worn your weathered leather
For protection, not just looks
Have you torn down your ol’ Bike
Without looking at the books
Have you caught the look of the ladies
As you go riding by
Have you noticed how their husbands
Look out the corner of their eyes
Have you ever took off all alone
To keep in touch with your soul
Have you ever done that, to remember
Freedom, not money is your goal
If any of what you just read
Brings back memories, good or bad
Then you can pretty much bet your ass
A Bikers life you’ve had
Copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved
Bob “Bikerwolf” Bryant has been riding bikes for about 35 years now, and writing for about 13 years. He first started sharing his work over Internet sites about 5 years ago. In early 2012 became Co-Founder of Road Scribes of America. His current ride is a Yamaha Roadstar.
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