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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I got on the train line Metro North allows bikes, I had mine. I stood near the door, other spots occupied I had a mountain bike, but it can road ride. Two women got on, one had a suitcase They sat down, looked at my haggard face. The tall one asked why I had a mountain bike The short one said it was faster than a hike. Then the short one gave a self-righteous frown. She emphatically declared "He must be kept down!" You might ask why, you might be intrigued But it's a long story, and I'm fatigued. I had a history, a woman felt rejected The truth was pathetic but never inspected. She became a lesbian, then I interfered for her sake. I had plenty of years to rue that mistake. Those four words intrigue me, many a time How bizarre motives can trap you in a design What business have these women to diminish anyone? To hem a man in, to filter the sun? Some work underground, sway events from below control beliefs, control where I go. Funny in a way, that anyone would care whether I rose or fell on life's transient stair. The tall woman caressed the short one Those four words kept hurting like bullets from a gun. I guess people form tribes by victim ideology: It wasn't me who owed them an apology. The train rolled on, past shadow and light, Her verdict hung there, it just wasn't right. I went on my bike ride, but later events showed That a war was waged, that nobody knowed.
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