The Trail's End by Bonnie Elizabeth Parker

The Trail's End

Author's Note: This was Bonnie's last poem. Published 2 weeks before she was shot and killed in a stolen car on her way to visit family.

"You've read the story of Jesse James,
How he lived and died.
If you're still in need,
Of something to read,
Here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow Gang
I'm sure you all have read
How they rob and steal
And those who squeal
Are usually found dying or dead.

There's lots of untruths to these write-ups
They're not as ruthless as that
Their nature is raw
They hate the law
The stool pigeons, spotters and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers
They say they are heartless and mean
But I say this with pride
That I once knew Clyde
When he was honest and upright and clean

But the law foiled around
Kept taking him down
And locking him up in a cell.
Till he said to me
'I'll never be free,
So I'll meet a few of them in Hell.'

The road was so dimly lighted
There were no highway signs to guide
But they made up their minds
If all roads were blind
They wouldn't give up till they died

The road gets dimmer and dimmer
Sometimes you can hardly see
But it's a fight man to man
And do all you can
For they know they can never be free

From heartbreak some people have suffered
From weariness some have died
But take it all in all
Our troubles are small
Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde

If a police man is killed in Dallas
And they have no clue or guide
If they can't find a fiend
They just wipe their slate clean
And hang it on Bonnie and Clyde

There's two crimes committed in America
Not accredited to the Barrow Mob
They had no hand
In the kidnap demand
Nor the Kansas City Depot Job

A newsboy once said to his buddy
'I wish old Clyde would get jumped,
In these awful times,
We'd make a few dimes,
If five or six cops would get bumped!'

The police haven't got the report yet
But Clyde called me up today
He said, 'Don't start any fights,
We aren't working nights,
We're joining the NRA.'

From Irving to West Dallas viaduct
Is known as the Great Divide
Where women are kin
And men are men
And they won't 'stool' on Bonnie and Clyde

If they try to act like citizens
And rent them a nice little flat
About the third night
They're invited to fight
By a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat

They don't think they are too smart or desperate,
They know that the law alway wins
They've been shot before
But they do not ignore
That death is the wages of sin

Some day they'll go down together.
They'll bury them side by side.
To some it'll be grief
To the law a relief
But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde."