Whats expression if we never speak,
I can think but that's it, my mind can't even leak.
Whats hate if it never thrives?
Whats love if it wont just die?
Pictures reveal that time so fondly,
You took my bike, no not a Harley,
The green little thing fresh off training wheels,
No way in hell could I stay on your heels.
I grabbed the camera and held it to my eye,
I knew if I pressed the button youd die.
You leapt off my bike and stumbled a bit,
Your black work boots polished with spit.
You ripped away the camera, but not before the flash,
But you sure as hell were moving your ass.
Now I have the picture, up on my shelf,
You leaping from my bike, nimble as an elf.
A grin on your face, glint in your eye,
gallop in your purposeful stride,
And the last thing I do is hide,
When you tackled me to the ground,
We tumbled and rolled around,
Tickling and laughing without a care,
Ended up with burdocks in my hair.
But now its but a memory, of a bicycle thief I loved as my brother.
To have more of these moments, what should I do?
Never, there will simply never be another, who could be as cool as you,
My one and only brother.