Of bicycles, time, and death

In the end we are nothing but bones-



it’s funny how death and time

ride a tandem bicycle 

(time always steers-

as impatient as always-

death always pedals-

ever present-)


the odd couple on the block



instead of pies and barbecues 


they bring the ravages of age

and oblivion 


(I mean, 

it’s not like we can do anything about it,

as our neighbors,

and overlords

we just have to go along with the procession

and pageantry

-just grin and bear it-

it’s all apart of the human affliction isn’t it?)


We know 

in our bones

that the end is unavoidable


One day the sun will bleach our bones

and no one will remember 

your accomplishments

and failures.


Our history means nothing to nature

no more than your bleaching white bones

or the ringing bell 

of Time and Death’s tandem bicycle


We all ache to be known

(but really what’s the point?

we are all forgotten in the end.

I mean sure,

We remember Hammurabi



King Henry

George Washington…..

But what about the Greats




There have to be more.

There have to be more great thinkers



who came before.

They are forgotten…..

-bleached bones only-)

But all we do is ache



for more

Sometimes we get more

Sometimes we are known

but for how long?


How long until the damned tandem bicycle comes along

ringing the bell

and you are forgotten


I am forgotten


We are forgotten.





In the end 

we are nothing but bones

at one point in time

we were more

but time and death

catch us

and eventually we are forgotten.





Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741