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brent-kincaidPoems
When I was a little kid My friends and I would play At cowboys and Indians In the barn with forts of hay. We crafted guns from sticks We found about the farm And though we shot each other We managed to come to no harm. Bang, bang, bang! I got you! No you didn’t, you missed! The bullet whizzed by me! You can’t see me in the mist! Of course, if we were Indians The same rules held true there. You never managed to **** us We never took your hair. But, we knew we were villains Because cowboys were king. We didn’t even question it. It was that sort of thing. Bang, bang, bang. I got you! Cowboys don’t ever cry. We twist and dodge you redskins So, don’t even bother to try. Holding invisible reins, we rode On our noble painted steeds. We pretended it was the old West Here in our playground of weeds. Some of us had play weapons Santa had brought to the lucky But forcing improvisation only Made us a lot more plucky. Bang, bang, bang. I shot you. You ***** lowdown rustler. Oh, we thought of every dodge. What young, clever hustlers.
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
BANG, BANG, BANG
When I was a little kid My friends and I would play At cowboys and Indians In the barn with forts of hay. We crafted guns from sticks We found about the farm And though we shot each other We managed to come to no harm. Bang, bang, bang! I got you! No you didn’t, you missed! The bullet whizzed by me! You can’t see me in the mist! Of course, if we were Indians The same rules held true there. You never managed to **** us We never took your hair. But, we knew we were villains Because cowboys were king. We didn’t even question it. It was that sort of thing. Bang, bang, bang. I got you! Cowboys don’t ever cry. We twist and dodge you redskins So, don’t even bother to try. Holding invisible reins, we rode On our noble painted steeds. We pretended it was the old West Here in our playground of weeds. Some of us had play weapons Santa had brought to the lucky But forcing improvisation only Made us a lot more plucky. Bang, bang, bang. I shot you. You ***** lowdown rustler. Oh, we thought of every dodge. What young, clever hustlers.
#poetry#nostalgia#kids#cowboys#indians#playtime#brent#kincaid
brent-kincaid
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brent-kincaid
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
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