Nakano takes to tarmac as the homeless take to doorways
Flying through the air, like a ragdoll, caused by
A slip of the clutch/ A grab of the brake
A slip of the slicks/ A grab for safety
The catalyst stops/ The Fireblade keeps going
He hits the floor/ Lucky he had his Arai on.
i know you said about your profile the other day with bike gear adverts on but i only just looked at them on this poem lol it's well weird x poem good though of course :) x
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