Dan at 4am... Father to Father, the knowing look.
And there he stood, alone, wrapped in barbed wire thought.
The driving rain a marriage of convenience with his tears.
Each and every image a scenario that sought
to drag him down and wrench upon the memories of my years
And in his eyes I saw that anguished stare, such a deep reflection of my own.
His pain was mine, his hope I cherished in my aching heart.
What goes around will come around and here am I. This chance has shown
me that at last, to thank my faceless rider, I can play my part.
"That's for my son mate, please" ...words reverberating through the roads of time.
And carrying that hope wrapped in a plastic bag, the bike has wings.
Loaded memories through my visor race, of hope and love and life sublime.
I, in haste pass on my precious load praying for the happy resolution that it brings.