With his finger on the trigger
He pulled the hammer down
He waited for the orders
From the Colonel to come around
A small band of soldiers
Who were farmers just before
No emblems on their shoulders
No bright and shining swords
They had joined together
And would fight til the end
At a Mission down in Texas
They knew they must defend
They were well out numbered
A hundred to each one
Reinforcements ordered were on their way
But would never come
Five hundred men strong
Marching on their way
Were slaughtered at Goliad
They could not save the day
They held the enemy back
For three long days and nights
When they heard the word of Goliad
They knew they would lose the fight
They kissed their wives good bye
They sent them through the gates
Then they said prayer to the heavens
For their souls to take
They would not surrender
The courage of these men
At a place they called the Alamo
They would defend until the end
They were completely surrounded
The enemy in red
Then Santa Anna and his men
They raised the flag of death
The cannon fire it began
The battle it raged on
But as each one he lost his life
He knew he died, at home.
Categories:
goliad, history, prayer,
Form: Cowboy Poetry