#georgestrait
Under neon lights and a borrowed blue dress, in a town too small for these dreams, I confess, where two-step and heartache fill Friday night air, and George Strait on the jukebox says life isn’t fair.
My boots are worn thin, I’ve got songs in my head, writing down wishes I wish I had said. Mama says patience, Daddy says tough, but my heart’s got a hunger, and growing up’s rough.
I’m learning love’s gentle, and sometimes it stings, like a cowboy’s goodbye or a promise on strings. I scribble my secrets in a notebook lined with ink, wondering if I’m braver than most people think.
Sunset on gravel, I’m chasing my fate, Counting the stars past my curfew and gate. Love’s just a rumor that floats down the hall, so I paint my own future on my bedroom wall.
Brown hair in a ponytail, wild as the breeze, I’ll run with the thunder and do as I please. If you ask me tomorrow, I might change my mind, but tonight I’m a wildflower, stubborn and kind.
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 2:13 PM UTC
I hate dull poems with no point
That makes no cents at all
I intend to laff it off and
Blame the alcohol.
Yes, Jaegar Bombz and Jello Sots
As far as i can tell,
Are fool fuel to propel my work
George Strait to Poem Hell.
I was gettin’ almost sober, SO
Had another Jaegar, and a beer (or two)
Lean closed to George and whispered in his ear
I’m here for a good time – juss like u
Yeah Iss country singin’ at is best
If u king n rite the kind that sell
But I get;n kinda sleepy
Stink my peom bombses swell.
SO moreally the story, if you right pomes wen yur drnuk
Beddter wate till til the mmornnimg lite
To post it post it post it tooo
That Hallowed Pomes site
LwP$@Qx)911 ^^(
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 2:10 AM UTC