WritersShowcase

Do you honestly think,you’ve control of your plight,

When you blatantly disregard, every red light?

Your air as you ride,is complete indignation.

For you weave in and out, with no indication.

Up on the pavement,to save yourself time.

Scaring old people,who aren’t in their prime.

How long do you think,that our patience will linger?

After cutting us up,you then give us the finger!

Your  lycra outfits,do nowt to enhance,

Your chances of winning,la Tour de France.

Listening to ipods,sometimes on the phone,

There’s no way you’re sporting,le Maillot Jaune.

Your fate I’m afraid, you are destined to meet,

En route the wrong way,on a one way street.

A brush with a juggernaut,could leave you dismembered.

Is this,the best way, you could be remembered?

You assume that all drivers,are total mind readers,

You arrogant pain in the arse,little bleeders.

Must you really persist,with this dangerous nonsense?

I’ve no wish to live,with your death on my conscience.