Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Cowboy Sorry Poems | Cowboy Poems About Sorry

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Rhyme |

A Journey Bourne

Ah war out a walkin
Ut war a Sunday morn
Mah chores war all did
Warn't no need fer me et home

Ah walks along tha river
What does goes by er place
Hearin tha crickets singin
Un watchin dragonflies un tha chase

Tha rivers a little lively
Fer tha rain done brung er up
Un stead uve a little girgle
Ut souns more like "sup"

Ah war almost ta mah favor ite log 
Wen ah does sees a dog
He jist stans un looks et me
N ah's goes walkin up

Then ah' see's uh movement
Un ut war a horse 
He sniffs tha air un stares et me
Un never makes a noise

Over thar un mah log
Un much ta mah surprise
 War un ol' man sittin 
Un never even blinks un eye

Ah jist kinda moz ies over
Un sits down un tha end
Tryin hard not ta bothers um
Cause he war a snorin

Then thar war a little sound
Frum a rock across tha way
We's both looks ovar thar
Ta see's what tha frog has ta say

As he war a sayin his piece
The dog cumed right up
He war gonna catch tha guy
But he has ta swims tha river first

Than tha horse done gived a whinney
Un walks up ta tha man
Nuzzlin tha fellers cheek
An pawin tha white san'

Ah sez "I's sorry 
If'n I's buttin un"
Tha ol' man done shakes his head
Tilts his hat un sez "No mam"

"We's jist un a journey
Un sides ta takes a break
Ut war kinda perty here
So we's jist sits here un tha shade"

"Horse youse jist stops ut
Her ain't did nothin wrong
Her jist likes ta listen ta 
Tha little feller's song"

"Dog youse cumes back here
Youse don't likes ta swim
If'n youse two don't calms down
We'll be's un er way again

"Well ah's sorry mam
Ut's still perty early un tha morn
But ah guesses Wild Lighten un Duke
Er ready ta goes un with er journey bourne"

Cile Beer

Thanks Bob Hinshaw for the idea

Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |


My sister had a small horse that no one else could ride
and anyone who mounted him soon had a skinned up hide.
It was haying time and Daddy took on some extra hands.
With brawn, brains didn’t matter much.  A rancher understands.
One new hand started boasting of broncos he had ridden.
Bragging around my brothers should have been a thing forbidden.

It didn’t take them long to brand that young cowpoke a phony.
They hatched a plan to get him on my sister’s half-broke pony.
If a man bragged of his horse savvy, he’d better know his beans.
They’d all been breaking broncos since before they hit their teens.
That evening when Sis brought the cows, Buster was so mellow
my brothers knew it was the time to trick that boasting fellow.
They asked their prey if he would like to ride the little horse.
The horse was acting gentle so he took the bait of course.
My sis got off and he got on, or such was his intention.
Buster remembered all the tricks those lads forgot to mention.
He gave one buck and that cowpoke was hanging from his mane.
He almost had him shaken off when he came down again.
Then Buster noticed the barn door was opened just a skin.
He was wider than the opening but still he wanted in.
He made a mad dash forward, just a-heading for that crack.
He made it through, the buckaroo was skinned right off his back.
The fellow was a sorry sight a-lying in that muck.
He must have thought the world was done or a bolt of lightning struck. 
Those rascals stood there laughing at the gent so mortified
then feeling sorry complimented him for his fine ride.
The moral of this story you don’t rate a horse by size
and misjudging one like Buster could get you a big surprise.     

For Carol's "A Horse Story" contest  Won 3rd

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Cowboys and Angles

Cowboys and angles fell in love
one day the angle loves the cowboy 
I am a angle my boyfriend is the cowboy 
forever and ever we were in love before
we got together 7 months ago 
we both have had 
a bad relationship before 
we get togther it have been 
8 months now we might fight now 
and than but it is making 
things work out when we fight 
I fell like cring but I say that 
I'm soory and make up

Copyright © william martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Kwansaba |

Shiny Minded Stone

"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."

wildflower eyes
I reply, "NOW."                                                                    (Kwan$aba! Ha! Really, 

often people become confused                                                    
by such a unique response                                                            
not this one...                                                                                
she's a beauty                                                                       
shiny minded stone                                                                  
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone

tho solo she stands
tallest green blade
each time the oily blade passes above

she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores

malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks

gold flows throughout waves 
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed 
by her entice

hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick

be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo 
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you

the girl
baby of zero maybes
she knows

as clarity lent us its giant umbrella 
her lipstick smacked my tongue 
from there
we never looked back


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |

Radiant smile

I can remember that day…like it was just yesterday. The pain inside, was too much to 
bear. As they lowered you in the ground, my world came a crashing down. No more 
would I ever see your radiant smile. That day is still a blur…as I drank the night away. 
Hoping it was all just a dream? But, reality came around and my emotions broke me 
down…and it all came a crashing down. It took me by surprise as those tears filled my 
eyes. My drink became a salty river of tears…I can still hear the Reverends last words 
as he commended your body to the earth. I was around town feeling sorry for myself, 
my emotions were coming down…I could still he his words as he commended you to the 
earth, but my heart couldn’t let you go. As they held me back from jumping in your 
grave…the emotions started to fill my soul, I was around town feeling so sorry for 
myself. Try to drown my pain with whiskey and beer…but those emotions came a 
tumbling down. As my drink became a salty river of tears, no more…no more…would I 
ever hear your laughter, that seemed as though it could fill the ever after. Later that 
night as I lay down to sleep, I reached over to that empty spot where you use to be…I 
swear I could almost hear you say, “ Dry your tears, someday we will be back together 
as we laugh together in this life here after…so weep no more. I’ll see you on the other 
side.” As I closed my eyes, the pain began to subside…I knew one day soon I’d get to 
see your radiant smile and hear your laughter.

Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

-------------------------The Soul I Sold------------

If I seem down forgive me Frowns I carry around live in me When I break you see right through me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... Your words so true renew me If only you'd re-design me Take time rewind refine me Recreate the mold without lies I’ve told... GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD... The hurt I’ve learned brews in me GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD....

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

Drippity drip drip

Take me there I don't care Touch my hair Eat this pear!!! I am bare Want to share? Do you care? I am bear I'll let you stare Don't go there By the chair Or on that stair? Your skin is fair You look like Cher Come to my lair But pay my fare Drippity drip drip

Copyright © Alexandra Caruso | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

Tears of My Heart

if poop could be named anything what would you name it?  id name it bob and id make him sit on a log in a bog and say get out of here you hog that looks like fog from a bog thats near a log with bob sitting on it who attacked the wacking wackers with all his heart and shattered, he fell to the floor.  dont name your poop bob because then youll have tears in your heart.

Copyright © Matt Poopenheimer | Year Posted 2012

Details | Bio |

The March of Rhymes

The March of Rhymes

Although the notion of the twilight sun had tainted my crystal clear vision

Was there something else you have been missing
The hero calls to yonder shore once again all alone;
As if a stray dog is in search of its bone,
The march rhymes lives among a passing few;

A papal pew decorated in the brilliant ambiance of fun,
With a certain crimsome tide to come undone,
Just after a police chase we so often will run to & fro;
Amidst the delicate fragrance of an ego,

Within smiles of timeless chartered words;

A center of reflection in the vast pyramid filled with choice,

Let us further linger in the fullest madness & rejoice

A pleasant smile still we each knew all the while;

The sore vexed temperment on the loose with cannon
The march of rhymes we shall succeed so many times
On a blade of grass she made me wait;
Some may even call this fate,

A lovely fragrant scent of fallen early morning rain;
As bullets fly through the ambiance movement in sky
Some just settle for peanut butter & jelly;
When all the while they can have a nice ham on rye,

The march od rhymes sings as the time passes by

Sometimes its just not enough but for to give it one last try?

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |

Sorry 'Bout Cowboys

It was just a honky-tonk in a Texas border town.
She was sittin' all alone and had that whiskey frown.
I walked over in my shiny boots said,"Can I sit down?"
She said," You ain't my type, but I could use another round."

They were playin' a slow one, but she didn't want to dance.
I said,"Tell me the story about your bad romance."
She said, "It's always you cowboys, I never have a chance.
I'm a sucker for blue eyes and those denim cowboy pants."

She's leavin' this old border town with the sun tomorrow.
Had her fill of broken hearts and days that fill with sorrow.
She's leavin' this old border town with the sun tomorrow.
She'll get the money somewhere - she'll beg, steal, or borrow.

I said, "I'm sorry 'bout cowboys and your romantic woes,
But I sell insurance and I'm sure not one of those.
I'm from Texas and I'm comfortable in Western clothes,
And the boots just seem to fit me from the heel to the toes."

We talked awhile until I mentioned gems and furs.
Then we talked of motels  with the towels that say "His" and "Hers".
I walked her to my pickup with lots of "Thank you, sir's"...
I forgot to clean my truck and she sat down on my spurs.

She's leavin' this old border town with the sun tomorrow.
Had her fill of broken hearts and days that fill with sorrow.
She's leavin' this old border town with the sun tomorrow.
She'll get the money somewhere - she'll beg, steal, or borrow.


Copyright © Larry Bradfield | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ballad |

The Cowboy


Her heart was breaking as she stepped into the bar,
This time her cowboy had pushed her just a little too far.
The neon lights seemed to be calling as the music took it its toll,
Pour me a couple of them little shooters I feel I’m on a roll.

The music was inviting as she watched the couples dance,
Until she met this cowboy who held her in his trance.
She still had on her wedding ring as they danced across the floor,
This cowboy had ill intentions as he danced her to the door.

He said let’s go get some air as casual as that,
She said I’m sorry cowboy I just don’t like the color of your hat.
She turned to walk back in but he grabbed a hold of her,
She said you best be turning loose or else you’ll feel my angry spur.

He turned her loose right then and there this girl with golden hair,
When right behind her stood her cowboy whom she’d thought had been unfair.
He said I’ve come to take you home, and I’m sorry for what I said,
But you’re just so gosh durn pretty I git messed up in my haid.

She said you are my cowboy I’ve got my brand on you,
But you’re gonna have to loosen up on them reins when I ask you to.
He said you got yourself a deal I’ll give it all I’ve got,
No more roping or the rodeos cause honey making you happy truly means a lot.

He grabbed up his little filly and sat her in his truck,
And told her that he loved her and with him she was stuck.
As they rode off into the sunset,
She said listen to me cowboy you're the best I've ever met.

Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008

Details | I do not know? |

No Please Don't Remove Me

No please don’t remove me
But I have been removed never to be again, 
When, please tell me when does it all end. 
There is no end, for even when you are gone,
you still live on.

 I have  an uncle I have never met,
 he lived long ago in the west 
and still lives on In the memories,
 of so many too many if you please.
 His name it doesn’t matter, 
what he did matters even less,
but still became famous,
for Feeding thousands, yes
But think about the others,
 the ones that were not fed 
and the many thousands 
that were left for dead.

Some might think it strange me thinking like this,
for all the good he did and all his help out west.
But thinking back to all those that would never rest,
And their torment of the old days out west.

Even though he was my uncle I still pay homage to the rest
For they are the ones really put to the test. 
Starving from his deeds while looking, for a place to rest.

Now I have been told they also are my brothers, 
this I know not for certain, but still respect the Indian Elders 
feeling their grief And suffering 
just like all the others.

Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2007