They mock me

All the shopping carts mock me.
They sit there so smug.
They know I can not ride them.
They just sit there huddled up.
They are game planning.
Their time will come.
I swear to God I will ride again.
Just not quite today.
Soon Ponyboy, the rumble is soon.
For today we dress our wounds
from the last encounter.
We mend today to ride tomorrow,
and next time, it is the cart
that takes the fall,
when once again we shall cry "Hovoc"
and let slip the dogs of war.