Western Poetry posted February 20, 2015

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Time to lay down to guns

A Gunslinger's Reflection

by krys123

I'm laying my guns down to rest,
needn't them anymore.
I used them always for the best,
and they've helped me for sure.

There were times I killed for pleasure,
and most times it was not.
It depended on a measure,
those I missed, those I got.

For twenty-years my back's been turned,
looking on my shoulder.
How much of peace I have yearned,
to be so much older.

The hush from people as I rode,
into their peaceful town.
As on their faces feelings flowed,
no sheriff to be found.

It has been here in this ole town,
were Billy Jack was shot.
Between the eyes they heard the sound,
enjoyments what I got.

But now I think I'll holster them,
and pass them on their way.
For all that's left is thinking when,
these guns had their heyday.

Settle somewhere and plant some seed,
and leave this far behind.
I don't want my tombstone to read,
that he was so unkind.



Picture courtesy of Google/Bing.
This poem was influenced by
Nancy's (Honeycomb's) Western
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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