The Colorado Kid

We took the morning by storm Just another day in Maine Until we met the Colorado Kid He sat back on the beach Holding remains of his death His blue lips showed his last breath Seagulls on the whim Never knowing him Picking up his last meal Showing off his muscles Never looking back Kicking buckets till his last Authorities never pleased Can’t we identify him? No more clues for the Eldorado A pack of smokes in his breast Autopsy shows the lungs clean But they were bought from Colorado A long way from his babe She came a year right after She saw his face in the paper A good job and nice house Why would he leave his life there? Traveling worlds meeting his maker.