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Last of the Breed
| Open Poetry #3 |
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Last of the Breed |
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John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas 
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“Last of the Breed” Thirty six years of hard labor- And nothing to show for it all. A wife and three kids who don't know him, He's crippled from many a fall. He used to be tall, lean, and handsome- But middle age spread has set in, He has no companion or lover- He's outlived most all of his friends. I guess that his brand read's "West Texas". He'll turn fifty-one, first of May. Foot-loose, a drifter, a throwback- To the West and her wild, wooley days. He hung up his spurs back in eighty- When injuries made him to slow- To make a good ride on the rough-stock, That he rode in the Pro Rodeo. Out back of the chutes you'll still find him, With advice that the young ones won't heed. It's more than a life it's a callin'- And he's the last of the vanishing breed. |
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| © Copyright 1999 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Very sad yet very well written tale! Interesting reading as always! ------------------ Denise |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Fantastic!!!! |
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Watcher666 Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 1606 |
Excellent! Enjoyed the read!! ------------------ Illusion...what we see and what we do...it's all up to you. |
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