“The Old Stock Trailer"

    Copyright©2004, Michael S. Robinson

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The old stock trailer’s loaded up with things that don’t belong

            And I’m feelin’ weak all over, but I’m tryin’ to be strong…

That rig is full of memories, of over thirty years,

            And I never thought it’d end this way, with a mortgage in arrears.

I could blame the rains that never came, and a prairie parched by drought:

            I could blame the wind-driven demon flame that drove my neighbors out;

I could cuss the cold and the coyotes and my years of sacrifice,

            But I’ve made some bad decisions too, and it’s time to pay the price.

The old stock trailer’s loaded up, and tears well in my eyes,

            As I recollect the lowin’ herefords, under cloudless skies.

My hearts a dying ember of a life so fine and free.

            I git in the truck, but my hand’s so weak that I just can’t turn the key.

I could blame the rains that never came, and a prairie parched by drought:

            I could blame the wind-driven demon flame that drove my neighbors out;

I could cuss the cold and the coyotes and my years of sacrifice,

            But I’ve made some bad decisions too, and it’s time to pay the price.

The herd’s already auctioned off, and they’ve sold my ponies too.

            Yet, they didn’t raid the fridge, so I’ve still got a stash of brew.

But there’s just no way to bury all that hurt, so deep inside…

            Like a bull that I rode eight seconds, there’s an end to every ride.

I could blame the rains that never came, and a prairie parched by drought:

            I could blame the wind-driven demon flame that drove my neighbors out;

I could cuss the cold and the coyotes and my years of sacrifice,