A Young Boy

A young boy,
riding his bike,
going like a
bat out of hell.

A right turn,
oops! There was a car.
A sharp jig to the right
put him into a hedge.

A small puncture in
the bicep of his left arm.
Remembering, it was bluish,
apparently, no harm.

Flash ahead, thirty years plus.\,
when the bluish tick,
began to ooze and
out came a little stick.