A Western Trail

He was eastern born in a small town. And loved being out in the wild. He fished, hunted, could track a deer down. At the end of a good hunt, he just smiled. But there was something not quite right. A place inside he couldn't fill. He would sit and ponder this into the night. A voice called to him, from a far away hill. That hill, out west, something he had to see. It's pull had become so very strong. Maybe it was where he was supposed to be. He was ready to go, he had waited so long. He found his western trail and set out. He would follow it into the sun. This was what feeling free was about. He would go on till this journey was done. Along the trail trouble came his way. An angry, violent man with a gun. He said, "you had better pray". One shot was fired, it was done. But the one that was to walk away, was the tenderfoot from the east. That was the moment he decided to stay. Good with a gun, to say the least. He rode on, drifting from town to town. There was talk of him and his quick draw. When called out, he could bring a man down. He was part of the west, rough and raw. The tenderfoot no longer, he was known as The Kid. His boyish face was the reason. He was now keeping his presence hid. Altering his course with the season. Kid started to feel lonely for his girl back home. A quick trip to see her, but he wouldn't stay. He knew that he was destined to roam. A couple of days, then he was on his way. His girl knew he would be back. Her job was to make him stay. A few ideas were stuffed in her sack. She was determined to get her way. Miss Ann knew her way around a gun. The Kid had taught her well. She could use it for more than just fun. Her secret, she would never tell. A stubborn woman, his Miss Ann She knew just what to do. To make sure that she kept her man He would stay, by the time she was through. Kid did stay, walking away from life in the west. Yet that part of him would never be tame. He realized it was for the best. Until the time, Kid Kross once again took aim.