Open Poetry #16 |
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Where I Belong |
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John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas ![]() |
Sitting by the highway, With my bag, and my guitar- On my way to Nashville, Where I hoped to be a star. But that was sixteen years ago- When I was thirty-two. I'm crowding fifty mighty hard, What's left for me to do? I'll pack my old blue suitcase- And take that same old box, And lug them back to Texas- With my holes in both my socks. With a lot of painful memories- And my notebooks full of songs. You're looking at a cowboy- Headed back where he belongs. I thought that I had talent- My friends all told me so. Said I needed exposure, Told me where I ought to go.... A long streak of the one night stands And fifty dollar gigs, At last I finally realized I'd never make it big. I look back on my past mistakes- I'll never right the wrong- So I'll just pack my bags, and then Head back where I belong. |
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© Copyright 2001 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Irish Rose Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263 |
John, this is very good, very good and reads like a country song. Kathleen |
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Tennessee Angel Senior Member
since 2000-06-03
Posts 661Tennessee |
I do love the way you write! Another gem you have here. ![]() The brave may die...but the cautious never live... |
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Tracey Member Elite
since 2001-08-29
Posts 2808where insanity meets breeding |
You always tell your tales so well. You may not have made it big, but I bet you have a lot of great memories. The ones I've heard so far seem to speak of a life filled with adventure If she who dies with the most toys wins, then can I have some toy boys please? |
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Topheth Member
since 2001-09-08
Posts 297Texas |
Welcome home, Poet. |
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