Buffalo City
He took a plane to Rapid City
Hoped the bike trip would be pretty
Took a cab to where the trail began—
He had the spark of a younger man.
Next day he cycled on the Mickelson Trail
Though he knew he was in a moving jail
Higher ups told us he must be kept down
If left alone, he'd gain a crown.
It wasn't fair that he be free
Breathing pure air, loving scenery
He had dissed our people, defied our creed
His attitude offended, more than his deed
We tracked him down, he had to fail
No free pass on the Mickelson Trail
No free bird, flying into the sky
We clip the wings of those who defy.
He got to a valley so pretty and green
I looked at his joy, I felt it obscene
In Buffalo land, I brought him low
No escaping our rules, no letting go.
Know that webs exist of every kind
You don't see the cords, but still they bind
Trip a wire, that's it for you
They don't care for your excuses, you can't argue
The cops won’t shield you, won’t take your side,
Your story ignored, or your story denied.
You’ve crossed a border few understand—
You're hunted now in Mafia Land.
There was a fellow with a note pinned to his chest
He lay in the street, the knife through his vest
He had offended a religion, but others die too
like a reporter who exposed crimes ugly but true.
So keep your head down, and try to conform
There are penalties if you stray from the norm
You walk a shaky bridge over a steep drop
Don't expect a parachute, not an angel, not a cop.
Copyright ©
Gem Stone
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