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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Back in the days, when men bold, spun golden legends; of exploits in the wild west; of punch-in and herd-in cows and saloon brawls where they’d shoot and scores of bullets roared. Stories of the Iron Horse’s roar and gunfighters and marshals, bold; Of gamblers, who’d go shooting for the stars in cards; those were feats of legend. Days when plains of cows, fur-painted the landscape of, the old west. These are the breed that won the west, as across the plains, the Iron Horse roared. those are the backs worn, herding cows; the exploits of the brave and bold. those brave and haggard legends made of silver spurs and pearl-handled shooters. You’re darn toot-in, shoot’in like that, was what won the west. While the Iron Horse died, its legend lives on, belching out its roar, across the plains, so bold. Still, cowboys herd and rope their cows. Modern day cowboys, herding cows by truck and shootouts no longer ring so boldly. Wild no more, is the west, where now, only cars and planes roar. Yet, there still live the legends. They aren’t as great, these new legends, but it doesn’t phase the cows. They calmly graze, amid the airplanes roar. Though one may say, “shoot, it’s spoiled now”, the legends live on, in the west, of heroes brave and bold. The west will always, have its legends, Though trains no longer roar. Cowboys will always rope their cows, as they did in the old, wild west. Upon museum walls, stories of the shootouts, are told; of ancient heroes brave and bold. 10-8-2020 Impress me with an old poem (002) Poet Destroyer A
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