Friday, July 3, 2020

Damn, I Miss Merle Haggard

when young, piss ran through my veins

engines ran rough rutted roads

hot flags whipped adrenaline 

tight fists, fresh biceps, unsure of growing old 


but life dealt from a strange deck 

muscle tore down to quietly

build a highwayman alone 

hoss sits lotus on the silent side of me



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Writer's Digest - Endecha: Poetic Forms

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