Twelve Hundred


Twelve Hundred
By David De Jong

Saddle bags getting’ lean, ammo’s nearly spent
Pockets are empty, ‘cept memories and lint
Sheriff’s closin’ in and his posse’s takin’ turn
Piece of lead he gave me, sure startin’ to burn

We crossed the border and the ponies were fine
Our herd of three hundred, all ready and prime
Got caught up in a tussle, Black Canyon Bends
No-good sheriff with his no-good friends

They rustled the herd, left us all for dead
I can’t get that lyin’ cheat, outa my head
He knew we were comin’, had it all arranged
Thought I could trust him, until it all got changed

We’ve been busted up before but none the likes
Pinned hard to the ground like a rail and spikes
Surrounded and outnumbered, nowhere to go
They took the herd and turned for ol’ Mexico

So now, the sheriff and I, got a debt to settle
His badge, means nothing, just a piece of metal
We’ll be pickin’ buttons off each other’s shirt
Lead will be flyin’ till one of us eats dirt

If I go down spillin’ my blood on the ground
I’ll sure take him with me and bring him around
Just in time to see, what he’s about to taste
Twelve hundred hooves, givin’ the devil his chase

3 thoughts on “Twelve Hundred

  1. You have such a unique way, outlook, and voice (poetically speaking). But speaking of “voice,” it’s been a long while since I’ve actually heard you vocalize your words. Would love to hear this one.

    • Thanks Marie, yes I should try to do another reading – life’s schedule has been not cooperative. It, has taken some time just to start writing on a regular basis again. Thanks for visiting. Speaking of poetic voices – Marie, you’re a tough act to follow. God Bless ya.

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