Local trail bike riders used the mounds
At the local football club and its grounds
And they buzzed around to the annoyance
Of the locals and one in particular took offence
So they strung a rope between two posts
At a place the motorcyclists used the most
So on one Sunday morning the trap was sprung
As the motorcyclist hit the rope his neck was rung
The young 17 year old rider lingered for a week
Then he succumbed with his injured neck a wreck
The investigation went on and the culprit was never found
And the family of the young dead man laid to rest in the ground.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem