Riders on the stormA Poem by Mario Vitalea deep writeRiders On The Storm
at the saloon he blew his top that day a brave soul caught beneath the undertow we filed into the road on horse back with our gun in the back heads were swearing up in down as he frowned didn't want to be around got spurs on my shoes with sweat on my hat the brow permeates an odor whiskey woman have take me by the hand it was the time we took our stand so we made our way out on a barrenn path together as riders on the storm it was coming quick but we kept treading along singing our song we were back in the saddle again with very close knit friends a snake suddenly crossed our path was headed side ways on our way to inter pass number nine with our steel wheel reserve the storm kept on brewing but we knew what we were doing folks in these sticks live as hide away hicks getting lost in its fix a slip of the hand let me help you understand we were a wolf pack head together
was it a mirage we looked ever closer as our horses investigated the odor we were headed south and the interpass was near a friend took a piss in some clearing there in the distance stood the sign of inter pass nine we were finally there one toke over the line sweet Jesus we made it home fine we were the riders on the storm like a dog without its bone now was a time of celebration for we made it to our destination we needed to take a break on a long awaited vacation just then an evil man pulled out his gun shot some of our men dead what was going on inside his head had a face full of lead yet we got revenge and shot him down never again will I be so king to a stranger in exchange shot us blind © 2017 Mario Vitale |
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Added on October 4, 2017 Last Updated on October 4, 2017 AuthorMario VitaleWolcott, CTAboutPublished 1,000 poems featured on Poetrysoup, Starlitecafe, Allpoetry & Neopoet.com more.. |

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