Bronco Don

Bronco Don

My name’s Bronco Don ,
an I’m not passing on, 
cos I’m busted.

I can’t ride me horse,
Me spurs look much worse,
Cos they’re rusted.

The Shielas can run,
but I can’t catch a one ,
Cos I’ve lusted.

Me stockwhip will sing,
Around any flaming thing,
I’ve mustered.

An I’m springing about,
An checking you out,
Till I’m rusted.

So bury me deep,
Away from the sheep,
Cos I’m not cutting the mustard.

Don Johnson

adventuremerhyme

♡Like0

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.