Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson

Rookie (11-21-61 / Ripley, Tennessee)

Poor Old Cowboy - Poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson

Some people call me a poor old cowboy, cause I wear a bandana around my neck,
I like to shoot long horned cattle, and I don't give a heck.
I like to ride my stallion out on the range,
A lot of city people think me mighty strange.
I don't wear shoes in the summer, nor a shirt upon my back,
I just wear jeans, for the saddle hurts my butt, this my friend a fact.
For a fact I am a cowboy, that's what people say,
I'm just a poor old cowboy, it proves a man's not gay.
I met a gal in, Reno, as cute as she could be,
But I'm just a poor old cowboy, what would she want with me?
I don't have any money for liquor, but that's just as well,
Cause I don't drink anyway, and I don't want to go to Hell.
Poor, poor old cowboy always without a home.

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Read poems about / on: people, money, city, summer, friend, home



Poem Submitted: Friday, April 15, 2005



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