D.M

Those lace up boots  
Memory of doc martens  
I had a black pair  
Joe 90 had cherry  
I first met him letting off firecrackers in his hand and he told me the secret to having balls was hidden in bohemian rhapsody  
I could never work it out  
Sometimes we swapped one boot for one  
How people stared as we stomped around town with mismatched boots, dressed in black  
Getting high on rum and coke  
Also from the smoke  
Motorbike madness  
200 kph what a rush  
Then you told me you liked to close your eyes at that moment  
Like a slow blink  
Just to get even more of a rise  
And when you took off those permanently shaded prescription glasses you had large, heavy lidded, vulnerable blue eyes the girls loved  
They loved a bad boy  
Scoob, you too had the DM's  
The uniform of 'the boys'  
Hoons, munters, drop outs  
Your place was the hang out, the piss up, the party, your mum was never there. The sleepouts, the old caravan, the long drop.  
You were the first boy to have a nose ring back in school, you took no shit from anyone and drew the meanest skull tattoo  
Jobless wasters, hopefully getting high by midday, drunk as the sun went down over the bay, speeding in a car with a keg of beer. Bonnet surfing, donuts at the lilly ponds, burnouts at the lookout  
Joe and Scoob. Yous two didn't grow up, I got a job  
I wasn't in the car  
You knew the road Joe!  
That corner is a killer you pushed it to far  
One motto of 'the boy's' was 'No vegetables!'  
You know how flesh can be smashed in a car crash?  
Never wore seatbelts, not in the remit  
Four boys, half men, two dead, one with short term memory loss, another walks with a limp.  
Joe 90 and Scoob  
Share a grave  
Buried in their leather jackets and boots  
Love you guys  
RIP