hard 'Grande River' robbing 1883 (winter)
Keep on riding this horse
right into the sun.
She thinks I know where we're going
why we both keep on running.
Every town that I come to
is the same as the last.
My future keeps running
away from my past.
Grandmother raised me
not to lie cheat or kill.
“Don't steal, but take back from
the fat rats that will.”
Just helping nice people
by the speed of my gun,
the losers get buried
and I get to run.
Shooed bandits from bedrooms,
vandals from wells,
dandys from dog dealing,
children from hell.
Rescued rustled women.
Saved wives from boyfriends.
Just planting bare pastures
beholden great ends.
Strangers behind me
seen my face on a tree.
I shot one this morning
as he snuck up on me.
The buzzards had found him
as I rode out of sight.
Lot of dead and some living
not much wrong or right.
This desert at night
is a cold piece of hell,
got a hundred bad stories
that are too bad to tell..
more @think500 .. a gift in every package
beautiful...
very perceptive, thank you.
Nice song..
Very good..
discovered.. pretty good ear.. this was a song before it was a poem. How did you know.
glad you liked it : )
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
Cosmically true and most poetically said.. hoping you'll read and say more at @think500
Hello
Hello
hi : )
Beautiful! check my last poetry and share your opinions about that please
Beautiful hours 💕🐎🐴
thanks good to hear
hello,very nice picture
: )
harika
i agree : )
think500
I enjoyed your rhyme as I prefer to call them. I write in a similar style and totally relate to what you are saying. Well done!
good to hear, thanks.