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Lonely Cowboy Poems | Cowboy Poems About Lonely

These Lonely Cowboy poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Lonely. These are the best examples of Lonely Cowboy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Prose |

The Lonely Cowboy

The lone cowboy
Ridding his faithful
companion
Had to leave his
town behind
Galloping to the
west
Leaving a trail of
dust
He is wanted for
possession 
Never paid his bar
tab
He couldn't get the
whiskey down fast
enough
His role in life is
to be the lone wolf
Only trusting his
gun
Don't get in his way
He is not afraid to
stand up for his
pride
He's done it before
in a past life
Can't see the light
at the end of the
trail
The only light
reflecting off the
moon
No room for growth
You can tell by his
weathered face, that
hes had a tough life
A face that shows no
emotion
He was stripped of
them years ago
He figures he'll
make up for his sins
in the next life
Hes not afraid of
death
He has knocked in
deaths door more
than once, and ends
up just leaving a
note saying that
he'll be back later
He doesn't even know
what hunger is
anymore
Steals scraps of
flesh from the
vultures
But he'll always
have that thirst for
whiskey 
It being his only
friend
Goes from town to
town raising hell
and destruction
Anger burns deep
inside him
Cant relate to the
civilized folk
Family means nothing
Disowned him decades
ago
He has a calling for
control
To be in control
Is to be out of
control


Details | Cowboy |

The Cowboy That Never Rode Home

In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
 
Far on a sparse hill it cuts the sky like a lance—
That pale, nearly white cross with just the name ‘Chance.’
He used to ride those hills and echo each valley,
Before he rode to war to make us all free.

Yes, his country called, like it had many before,
And he gladly went off to fight in that war.
There were no questions asked, no concern for the cost—
If none volunteered, our country would be lost.

Then one day the dreaded letter came, edged in black—
And we knew then, that he would never come back.
Be it rancher or mere clerk – all went off to war—
And while most returned – some would be seen no more.  

And long before there was a Memorial Day—
Our young men died for our American way—
From wars of revolution to wars of the world—
All of our soldiers fought with our flag unfurled. 

There are bright jade prairies of gray and white crosses,
That recount endless wars and many losses—
Now in meadows bloom reminders on each plain,
Marking names of those who have not died in vain.

In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
  
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