Ghost Town

Ghost Town

A Poem by Bo Lanier

Standing in the among the ruins of what

Used to be a thriving little gold fever town

I swore I heard music and laughter coming

From the half-moon saloon, I walked around

But nobody could be found still I could of

Sworn I just saw a cowboy walk chasing

An apache in a cloud of dust well I felt a

Chill run up and down my spine and it is a

Hot, hot day in August maybe it's the heat

And the sun getting to me, I’d say that if

I just didn't stumble up on crooked head

Man swinging from dead man's tree...

Apparently they don't call this a GHOST TOWN

For nothing, and they're everywhere, one

Here and one there, voices of the dammed

Keep telling me you will not leave this town

I try to run for my life but they gather around

Me and pull me to the ground, now here I am

Confused as I go stumbling around this

Cursed town, this GHOST TOWN...

Whose blood do you have on your hands...?

You stare off into space with cold and evil dark

Eyes...

Does the gun in your hand make you a man...?

Now what cowboy, now that I’m roped and tied

Surrounded by your hell hounds in this devil dessert

Town...

Apparently they call this a GHOST TOWN just because

It’s a GHOST TOWN!

© 2016 Bo Lanier


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Added on June 20, 2016
Last Updated on June 20, 2016

Author

Bo Lanier
Bo Lanier

Chattanooga, TN



About
Bo Lanier resides from Chattanooga, Tennessee and has become an established poet with over twenty years of experience. He has received several achievement awards in creative writing throughout the ye.. more..