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The Drifter

Posted: Sun May 06, 2018 9:27 pm
by norman
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The Drifter

He rolls into town
Like a rolling tumble weed
A good cold drink
Is surely his only need

With a gun on his hip
He saunters down the street
With his rough hands
He can earn his keep

Looking for a place
To rest his weary bones
He has no family left
Just drifts through all alone

Some folks look at him
As if they're his Judge
Having no idea about his past
But their faces wear a smudge

At one time he was a sheriff
But, was voted out by crooks
So he started drifting
Living by his own rule book

At one town a few weeks ago
He rescued a little girl from harm
Some bad guys took her for money
Yes he used his gun not no magic charm

The little girl is back safe
The bad guys will never do that again
He put them six feet under
And returned the little girl with a grin

Now he drifts from town-to-town
Always trying to avoid trouble
But should someone try him
He'll try match them on the double

Yes, he's but a drifter
Doing chores where ever he can
Not looking for hand-outs
just getting by, helping a fellow man

Written 5/6/2018 by Norman Hale Jr.
© 2018 Norman (All rights reserved)