A playing card and a clothespin. Bicycle spokes give it a spin. Sounds of the real big motorcycle. A card. clothespin and my bicycle. Hammer nail two pieces of wood. Homemade things in our neighborhood. A bike jumping the ramp isn't that grand. Nothing we had was of a name brand. We'd work for this, that others could buy. Earning our way our heads held so high. I can't help but wonder about the kids today. Seldom outside does one see them play. Ten kids in my day were called clubs. Ten kids today, a gang carrying clubs. In my day kids respected each other. Now-a-days kids will kill their mother. The values today seem to me rather strange. I think they're all overdue for some change. Todays standards have little reason but rhyme. "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time." I think it's time to make a simple rule. I'll make it simple for I am no fool. Kids remember the golden rule. show some smarts and stay in school. some notes for all. Yes I know the title is strange. Mispelled the name for a change. Poetry Index Page Created: Nov 5th, 1999 © Mike Dimond 11/03/99

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