War Poem by David Cleveland

Two motorcycle clubs are about to go to war.
Our only wish is to know what we are fighting for.
There are specific rules we follow, like not riding alone.
Things get pretty bad where we're not even safe at home.
The clubs try to make peace, so no more people die.
All it takes is one bad look, and again, bullets start to fly.
We don't mind fighting, and we don't mind going to war.
What we do mind is not knowing what we were fighting for.