Think about those worms, that wiggle through the land,
they loosen up the soil, so the roots of plants, can expand,
Those plants give off oxygen, to support life on this earth each day,
When you want, something new in your life,
You must be open, to change,
You can't' just rely on others,
To follow, and rearrange.
We use to be close, always together,
Shared good times, and helped each other, through bad weather.
There were few days, you would see us apart,
We had a friendship that connected, right from the start.
Outlaws from the past, old gray hair men today,
Exploring on Harley Davidson"s, mind entertaining down highways.
Hair blowing in the wind, their noses on the white lines,
I've been writing seventeen years,
Is it my purpose, in this life,
or am I that board, o'h so dear.