Freezing, windy, raining all week,
slippery roads and mad drivers,
soaking gloves, wet feet, the thought of
home is my only shelter.
Unshaven, damp clothes,
tired eyes and a runny nose,
hungry, low on gas, short on cash,
means another day without lunch.
Fast is the only speed I know because
I’m being chased by debts,
so I ride like an outlaw taking risks
which don’t justify the gain,
teasing Death too close to the edge,
making gaps where there are no gaps,
but at all costs the jobs must be delivered.
This is no occupation, it’s a situation
in which I am trapped.
Desperation mixed with frustration is a
deadly cocktail which I drink every day,
just to earn the money which is already spent
before it touches my hard working hands.
Is everyone against me?
The ignorant drivers, the Law,
even my woman keeps telling me
to find a proper job.
Short winter days, long hours, cold lonely nights,
just me and my faithful motorbike.
I pray to God she doesn’t let me down.
Unpaid rent, unpaid bills, untold debts
will give me the motive to endure
yet another day just to qualify for
the bonus.
At least tomorrow’s pay day.