The President Rides a Bicycle
rides a bicycle
while young men
and women die.
He rides a bicycle,
the first big thing
a child wants to own,
the symbol of carefree
summer days.
The president rides
a hundred miles,
but he doesn�t see
corpses beside the road.
He doesn�t see
dead eyes pleading,
or curled fingers,
he doesn�t see
withered hands
clutching something
that isn�t there.
He is a blind man
gripping rubber handles,
hypnotized by silent,
flashing spokes.
The president rides
a hundred miles,
but his wheels spin
and never touch
the road.
Little does he know,
he reached
his destination
long ago,
this raw ground,
red with the blood
of children.
August 19, 2005
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Also by William Michaelian
POETRY
Winter Poems
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
52 pages. Paper.
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Another Song I Know
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
80 pages. Paper.
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