A decade of dreams
With auctioneers screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
I built a foundation to stand
But built it on sand
Another's wishful thinking
Now the ships sinking
Feeling so low
To see my cows go
I'd continue this ride
If not for my pride
But prideless dreams
Are nothing it seems
Won't go in debt
Won't be banker's pet
For I saw the eighties
And the crazy ladies
A decade of dreams
With auctioneer's screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
I'm not kind to travel
On roads that aren't gravel
Child almost grown
Wild oats have been sown
Too poor to retire
Too old to fight fire
Feeling so strange
I'll miss the range
The grasses of June
The meadowlark's tune
Calves newly born
Fresh dew in the morn'
And walking with ghosts
While planting posts
Three decades of dreams
With auctioneers screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
I made my stand
In these hills of sand
I've fought their blizzards
Child chased their lizards
Seen hail bigger than my fist
Was damn glad it missed
I've fought their choking fires
Outworked jokers and liars
Survived orange smoky droughts
Wrestled my blues and my doubts
I've seen hail strip branches
From neighboring ranches
Watched twisters roar through
And saddled a few
Seen wind driven sand
Hide the back of my hand
And crickets so thick
The sidewalk was slick
A lifetime of dreams
With auctioneer's screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
It's all out of reach
For one thinking they teach
Needs to learn
That I need to earn
I'm no charity case
Can't pay for a place
Without any wage
When wrinkled with age
And a place they won't sell
Though they're only a shell
Or gift they won't give
While they still live
Does nothing for me
I must cut myself free
From this friendly cage
To save for old age
A lifetime of dreams
With auctioneer's screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
If not on the brink
I could be the link
Between generation four
And two generations more
I've rooted this sand
But no more can I stand
To waste years and dream
My eyes yet gleam
But the pie won't divide
So I'll keep it inside
Would kill them to know
It's they that can't grow
But when it's too late
At some distant date
Over their grave I will scream
They murdered our dream
Six generations of dreams
With auctioneers screams
And the sound of the gavel
Soon will unravel
"Going once?"
"Going twice?"
"SOLD!"
*CRACK!*
... hundred year legacy,
gone in one crack...
1916-2016
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What I 'Felt' To Say Was...
Poetry"Poetry can be therapy, so shut the door and get comfortable, we've been through a lot since our last visit. Glad to see you brought coffee. Just a reminder, I know this is expensive, but like life there are no guarantees. I do expect to stir s...
