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Thomas Walls Poem
I guess I’m cowboy with cowboying ways.
born a century too late so it seems.
This city style living is just killing me.
My soul wants to wander where souls
wander free.
Selling insurance over the phone
deadens my body and it’s killing my soul.
My soul wants to wander where souls wander free.
this city style living is just Killing me.
I remember the story’s my granddaddy told me
the day’s on the prairies the nights they were cold.
The hills and the valley’s the mountain’s and streams
the wild Mounting dear coming down from the hills
I know I’m a dreamer I guess I’m a schemer
get rich quick ideas and half thought about schemes.
My soul wants to wander where souls wander free
this city style living is just killing me.
I lookout my window at the concrete below
27 stories high got three hours to go.
Got a 40 year mortgage that I’ll never pay
so I’m packing my bags and I, am leaving today.
Back to the prairie where my soul wanders free
this city style living is just killing me.
Copyright © Thomas Walls | Year Posted 2006
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Thomas Walls Poem
Let your soul wander free through the valley of dreams
Through the hills and the forest and the fast running streams.
Let the memories flow through the years long ago
To those happier times I am sure you have known
And when times they get bad look through the memories you had,
Of those soft summer evenings and the friends that you've known.
Take my hand, walk with me from the cliffs to the sea
Be soothed by the sound of the breeze through the trees
The waves when they break, and the sounds that they make
Hear the sounds through the trees of the birds and the bees
Watch the young as they play in the streets of today
Walk with me through the hills, through the meadows so green
Sit a while and just ponder at the wonders you see.
Take my hand sit a while in the shade of a tree
But don't ever be sad for the things you can't see
Let the low rolling hills guide your thoughts and your dreams
Let the hot summer sun soothe your mind
Walk with me to the fishing village asleep on the coast
Watch the old women fixing the nets on the boats
The old men sit and talk tell the tails of the past
Don' be afraid of the past or the future to come
There are many good things in this world to be done
See the boats as they sail, feel the wind as it blows on your face
Make your plans for the future, don't dwell on the past.
Let your mind wander fee and be happy at last.
Copyright © Thomas Walls | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Thomas Walls Poem
I have watched you through the years growing up
and shedding tears.
Trying hard to find what life was really for.
You tried hard to make us see this old world was meant to be a place of love and
not a place of war.
Man as stumbled through is life with a gun or with a knife man as killed and man
as died for what he thought But is thoughts are all in vain this world remains the
same unchanged by all the blood it’s seen.
Sharon you’re just sixteen but you’ve seen what man as never seen the love and
joy this world as got to give
But when all the years have past and gone, will your thoughts remain the same
or with all the violence in this world will your thoughts have been in vain.
Who Knows
Copyright © Thomas Walls | Year Posted 2006
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