Paint With Fire
Painted ponies blaze
Across the steppe-land maze
I bask in the sun's dying rays
Newborn hopes had begun to raise
Timid dreams of brighter days
Wagon wheels break the Western skies
Intensive care for invasive lies
Truth hidden soon dies
Hurling poker chips, roll your snake eyes
Finding solace in the campfire
Indigeous hate we all inspire
Railways stealing for hire
Engulfing the plains with our funeral pyre
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I'm still on a Western kick it seems. Oops.
I wrote this thinking of Andrea Dietrich's contest, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the right tone.
Ah my muse. Sorry.
Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014
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