It started from the Pentagon, it was an awesone sight,
A motorcade of cyclists, an entourage of knights.
Winding throught the streets, as far as you can see,
Across Memorial Bridge, through Washington D.C.
Up Independence Avenue, and 'round the Capitol,
By Washington's Monument, on and on they roll.
Down Constitution Avenue, past the reflecting pool.
The roar of different cycles, but playing the same tune.
Past the cheering crowds, lined up along the street,
With their hands outstretched, to bikers they would greet.
Where do they all come from, why is it they come?
From Pacific, North and South, like sounds of rolling drums.
From rows of eight across, to fifteen bikes abreast,
Assorted motorcycles, honoring the best.
The ultimate direction, for the bikers all,
All headed down the city's streets, for the Viet Nam Wall.
Feelings of emotions and feelings of much pride,
Respect for those missing, and in 'Nam that died.
Despite the controversy, they were well up to the task.
Those inscribed unon the wall, served when they were asked.
They gave their lives for us, so that we may be free,
Free to live and ride, wherever that we please.
For POW/MIA's, that is why we roam,
Never to be forgotten, bring all of them back home.
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