Understanding

Understand that I truly despise you.
You, who makes two seconds of my time frightful.
Understand that that if I could,
I would cause you as much fear, in as much time, as you cause me.
Understand that I don’t just, shake it off, I carry it with me.
Up the hill, down the path, and back.
I remember your car, even if I can’t remember your faces.
Understand that, if I had a spare bottle I would probably chuck it at you without blinking.
You fuel my road rage, your humor makes me see red.
Understand that I truly despise you,
You boys who bark at me out your car window,
While I peddle up a hill with a bike trailer and child in tow.

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2 thoughts on “Understanding

    1. I agree, the trailer makes me feel more vulnerable too; despite my own efforts to ride more aggressively with it.

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