On steel steeds, they ride through desert vast,
Two bikers bound by freedom’s fervent flame,
With windswept hair and eyes that glimpse the past,
They chase a dream, an ever-shifting name.
From cocaine’s sale, their wallets flush with gold,
They wander roads where legends often tread,
Across the Southwest’s sunlit, endless fold,
To find America, by visions led.
Through open lands, where skies and earth embrace,
They journey deep, where hippie dreams take flight,
Among communes where love’s a shared space,
And laughter dances in the firelight.
In New Orleans, the streets alive with sound,
They taste the highs, the lows, of human strife,
A counterculture's heartbeat, raw and unbound,
Reflecting all the joys and pains of life.
The soundtrack’s pulse, a thrum of rebel hearts,
As rock and roll ignites their winding way,
The visuals, a canvas that imparts,
A generation’s call, a bold display.
Jack Nicholson, with eyes both wise and wild,
Embodies dreams, and fears, and fleeting light,
A sidekick’s charm, a renegade beguiled,
By visions that could only bloom at night.
Yet shadows loom, intolerance in tow,
A clash of worlds that teeters on the brink,
In southern towns, where fear and hatred grow,
They face the storm, and through its heart they sink.
A tragic end, in bullets’ cruel embrace,
Two riders fall, their freedom torn apart,
Yet in their quest, a truth we can’t erase,
The spirit lives, immortal in our heart.
Easy Rider, a film that captured time,
A touchstone for a restless, yearning age,
With counterculture’s rise, and dreams that climb,
It leaves its mark, profound on history’s page.
Preserved in time, by Congress deemed to be,
A tale of change, of beauty, and of pain,
A rider’s quest for what it means to be,
Forever rides within our hearts and brains.