You Didn't See Me

I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But you
didn't see me put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.
But you didn't see me playing Santa at the local Mall.

I saw you change your mind about going into the restaurant when you saw my
bike parked out front. But you didn't see me attending a meeting to raise
more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you roll up your window and shake your head when I rode by. But you
didn't see me riding behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the
car window.

I saw you frown at me when I smiled at your children. But you didn't see me,
when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you stare at my long hair. But you didn't see me and my friends cut ten
inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you roll your eyes at our Leather jackets and gloves. But you didn't see
me and my brothers donate our old ones to those that had none.

I saw you look in fright at my tattoos. But you didn't see me cry as my
children were born or have their name written over and in my heart.

I saw you change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But you didn't see
me going home to be with my family.

I saw you complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But you didn't
see me when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you yelling at your kids in the car. But you didn't see me pat my
child's hands knowing she was safe behind me.

I saw you reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But you
didn't see me squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you race down the road in the rain. But you didn't see me get soaked to
the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But you
didn't see me trying to turn right.

I saw you cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But you
didn't see me leave the road.

I saw you, waiting impatiently for my friends to pass. But you didn't see me.
I wasn't there.

I saw you go home to your family. But you didn't see me. Because I died that
day you cut me off.

I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family. But you didn't see me.