Fall and Hit the Pavement, A Poem

Fall and Hit the Pavement
By: Ryan Beodeker


The pavement hurts when you fall and hit the street. World stopping, you keep moving. Bump, bump, bump goes the skin and flesh of my body as I bounce along the hard gravel of asphalt.

The pavement hurts as it cuts my hands and bruises my limbs. The red iron-y tang of blood slowly drips down my finger tips. Color me red; the blood drops speckle the street as I stagger up and away from the cars coming.

I don't even stop to tend to the wounds. I don't even stop to check myself for injuries that might require more than just my capable attention. I don't even stop longer than needed to grab my things and continue to glide. In the end always return to your ride.

Streets are hard. Pavement cold and unforgiving. Though the will to ride, to fly along the side streets back and forth weaving between cars; the very will to move unending creates the Street Angels; the people who taste the street and its sting, yet continue to skate on by.

I am a Street Angel; gliding, riding the dark unlit night streets. The wheels of my wings, click click click with every bump of the red cobble pavement that I have come to know. I am a guardian of those who wish to ride. Angel to those who are forced to the streets, forced out into the night.

The street hurts when you fall and hit the pavement. Though memory serves that you can always stand up after, brush yourself off, and continue to glide. The guardians of you, watching constant, the Street Angels always near. Ever vigilant, ever present, we will guide those who seek, yearn, require knowledge.

Mend the tattered pieces of my own broken flesh. Ignore the blatant disregard for human emotion. Run from the dangers present and absentee. Come out to the streets. Day or night, we angels of road, saints of the pathway, riders of waves designed by men not earth shall consistently be there.

So when you fall upon the pavement, fall hard and hurt on streets, we, the Street Angels, will be there with hand extended. We, the Street Angels, shall help the fallen comrade; so not as to leave him hurting when he tumbles hard. For we all go fast and the street hurts, when you fall and hit the pavement.