a stick pony without a head
righting the wrongs of childhood
when others didn't play along
I rope my brother, tie him down
make him the bad guy, make him frown
he's not that happy, playin my game
Annie Oakley, runs away
before he can tell mom
I grew up, put Annie aside
forgot about her for a very long time
now that I go to the range and shoot
Annie has returned
once again to right the wrongs
Annie has returned
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
1 comment:
LOVE it! I am also a horse riding, gun slinging chick. You are an inspiration.
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