Dark Disdain

Why do cyclists show no lights,

Even on a wet dark night?

They whizz right through the murk and rain,

Treat their safety with disdain.

For sparkly belts they do not care,

To be unseen seems like a dare.

They're happy in their gloomy clothes,

To blend right in to the shadows.

They'll be OK for quite a while,

But then they'll greet Grim Reaper's smile.

No matter how they twist and writhe

He'll hack them down with his sharp scythe.