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John
Poems
Sep 2012
Pretty Boy Floyd
When you come around
Come around this little town
There's a story that you'll hear
That makes you smile and shed tears
He was a little boy
When his momma told him "Son,
There ain't nothin' hear for ya,"
But he found a way to have his fun
He knew he should try harder
And make his mom and pop proud
But they were just farmers
And he fancied his pop a coward
So one day he said "Momma,
I'm leaving this town for good.
I'm packin' my bag and hoppin' on a
Big ol' train," and do just that he would
His momma kissed him goodbye
His pop just bowed his head
And off he went to the city
There was not a tear he shed
He then met some boys around his age
They liked to shoot and loot
He didn't mind the ruckus
Or the terrorizing of old coots
They robbed and they shot
They stuck and they stole
And they laughed all the way
He was happy he got himself out that hole
But then one day the sheriff
Flicked his badge and said
"It's time for you to leave this town,
before I shoot you all dead."
His friends put their hands up
And slowly backed away
But the ol' boy had drunk his share
And thought it time for the sheriff to pay
So he pulled out his revolver
But before he could shoot
A shot rang out and smoke fluttered
The sheriff let out a hoot
Our ol' boy laid on the floor
Bleeding like a pig
He smirked and he died there
But he never felt so big
Written by
John
28/M/New York
(28/M/New York)
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Weeping willow
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