there were cowboys, in the old west
Some were greased lightning, some were a jest.
But all carried six shooters, and that was their choice
They weren't too original, but, boys will be boys.
They'd shoot up the prairie, They'd shoot up the hills,
So much, lead was flying, it gave you the chills.
They'd shoot up dirt streets, They'd shoot up the bars,
They'd shoot at the moon, and even the stars.
They'd punch long horned steers, five days of the week,
Then ride into the sunset, there was whiskey to seek.
Then off to the mercantile, for 45 loads,
And off to Dodge city, on some old country roads.
At the hitching post, hog legs would appear and they started a riot,
Their passions were fueled, by the old rot gut diet.
The whole raucous crew, along with their leaders.
Can you imagine, if They'd had nine millimeters.
Juan Olivarez
2/6/2020
Alton Texas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Juan, Great poem! ! 5 stars