Thread by @DIsaac8

Got bored and re-wrote The Charge of the Light Brigade to be about a group of unlucky commuter cyclists. Sincere apologies to Tennyson and my various English professors for the ungodly things I did to the metre to get it to fit into 280 characters...

I
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the bike lane of Death
Rode the six cyclists.
“Forward, the commuters!
Ride in the lane!” he said.
Into the bike lane of Death
Rode the six cyclists.

II
“Forward, the commuters!”
Was there a one dismayed?
Not though the cyclists knew
The City had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the bike lane of Death
Rode the six cyclists.

III
Car doors to the right of them,
Truck wheels to the left of them,
Sharrows in front of them.
Drivers yelling loud,
Sworn at for taking the road,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six cyclists.

IV
Flashed their bike lights bright,
Flashed as they rode in the night
Dodged the pothole blight,
Weaving through glass while
The Dutch wondered.
Plunged in the unplowed-snow
Through ice they rode;
SUV & car
Weaving and swerving.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six cyclists.

V
Car doors to the right of them,
Truck wheels to the left of them,
Sharrows behind them.
Sworn at for taking the road,
While bike and rider fell.
They that rode so well
Came through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six cyclists.

VI
When can their road rash fade?
O the wild commute they made!
All the Dutch wondered.
Honour the commute they made!
Honour the cyclists,
Weary six cyclists.