A couple of years ago I wrote and posted a poem about doping in cycling called Dopers’ Lament. More recently I wrote this short poem about the sadness of the young men who died as a result of “doing what had to be done”….
Domestique
Bike passed to mechanic
Showered, massaged, refuelled
Another day done
Another lesson learned
Doing what has to be done
And he dreams of bigger days
Of Pyrenees and Alps
Of his name on the road
Dreams of glory
Of podium girls
And fast cars
And he drifts off
Aching
On a hotel bed
And molten Macadam blood
Seeps through enlarged ventricles
And a young man
Domestique
Sleeps
Forever