God sent us sad souls to the pan handle of Texas to break our heart
No oaks, no rivers, , no place to dream upon the flat earth, as a song
broke forth from our mouths, a sad country song laborious and filled
with melancholy. There ain't one damn thing on this flat dry plain to
share with another soul, 'cept to tell you bout the nothing that I have
seen
And the Texas pan handle is where God sends a sad man to tear him
into. This ain't no place for no one to go on trying to live, to dream,
unless he is a coyote or an Indian. By God I am here and the wind
alone could break you in half and I ain't got a half to give so I'll grab my
load out of Amarillo and head off to Oklahoma and on through Kansas,
Missouri and Iowa till my flat beds empty... But by God the panhandle
is enough to break my soul and I can't wait to go back there. In Texas I
just might find myself.
Sounds like you still have a hankering for that ole panhandle. Nice poem Jeff-----Melvina
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Having driven through several times I can definitely appreciate this one. Having lived in San Angelo Texas, I can definitely believe that you can find your soul in Texas, but its very likely that the weather will change completely thirty minutes after you find it and the darn thing will blow away again, lost in the wind while you chase it off into the sunset. :)