Biker wings

As I have mentioned before I had several uncle’s growing up, which made for lots of fun times. Unfortunately, due to bad luck we have lost most of them 4 to be exact. Here is another poem I wrote for one of those uncles when he passed.

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Biker wings

He road with the wind in his hair and the Sun on his back, now he’s gone and won’t be coming back. This was unexpected it happened so fast, all we can do now is think about his past. He went out doing what he loves, you could always see him with his biker vest and his hands were always loved. As we sit here all we can do is cry, but we all know tommy is looking down on us from the sky. Its so sad that he had to die, but now with his biker wings he can always fly. We’re all stunned and don’t know what to do, none of us want to believe that this is true. We all wish him well as he ascends to the great Above, just like a lonesome Dove. So long are buddy, brother, or uncle we’re sure to see you again. Then you can tell us about all the places you have been.

In Living Memory of
George Thomas Crandall  
AKA (Animal)
Dec. 26th, 1958 – Sep. 09, 2006

Tommy was killed saving another in a freak motorcycle accident. Ironically he saved my husband’s cousin and he didn’t even know about me and hubby dating at the time. The two just happen to be part of the same motorcycle club, on a poker run that day. I won’t share more about his accident because it was pretty gruesome, but I will say please watch for motorcyclists whether you’re in a car, a truck, or a semi.

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