Open Poetry #36 |
Rodeo |
Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA |
It's the curse of my existence, The ruination of my life. It's cost me friends and family, My children and my wife. My friends all used to ask me- "Do you know what you are doin'? Your crazy, driftin' lifestyle, Will bring about your ruin." Well, you can call it crazy- Or call it rodeo... Broncs and bulls and buckin' chutes, Rerides and the short goes- Motel rooms and pickup seats, And "goin' down the road" Pocket money when you ride, The shame at gettin' throwed... A siren call to certain men, A call they can't ignore; Arena sights and sounds, my friend Are what they're livin' for. Stetson hats, and Wrangler jeans And Tony Lama boots, Limps and bruises, scars and such Reveal their western roots. You can call it rodeo- Or call the men insane. Your banker's hours lifestyle, Just goes against their grain. They have to give it all they've got As long as they can go... Then dream away the sunset years, Reliving... Rodeo. |
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© Copyright 2005 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Stetson hats, and Wrangler jeans And Tony Lama boots, Limps and bruises, scars and such Reveal their western roots. Ooooh, yes. I love cowboys! Well done John. hugs, Chris |
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