Red horses come around,
Take the weak into the ground,
Don’t even have to go to town
When dude delivers on the mound.
Shoot em up cowboys got lost, and found.
Broken glass, life shattered and bound,
Melted illusion shoved inside round.
Forget the rhyme, don’t like the sound
When hope dissolves and friends go down.
Damn. Little addicts everywhere.
~ N. ©2013
Barnbees 