Write On.life: Thoughts. Written. Shared.

As the sun
Gently warms
This old barren Texas plain
I point my
Faint ambitions
Toward the east
One more mile
Doesn’t matter
It all looks the same
Could’ve warned me
Wouldn’t have mattered
In the least
Like I’m looking at the Cimarron River
Scenes of what I could’ve been
Flash by
Oh that cold western wind made me shiver
All the water
Now had run dry
Wind the hands
Of the clock
Seems like far too many years
Past the heaven
Past the hell
And in between
As you sit
On the banks
While the rain hides your tears
Did you think
To change the course
Of the stream
Like I’m looking at the Cimarron River
Scenes of what I could’ve been
Flash by
Oh that cold western wind made me shiver
But the water
Now had run dry
When I’m gone
Hands of men
Paid by gifted providence
Drive the mark
Into the dry
And dusty ground
For this cause
Civilian views
It’ll hold them in a trance
For a second
Then they’re gone
From sight and sound
They were looking at the Cimarron River
Clueless eyes took in the scenes
Then flashed by
They couldn’t feel the cold wind that made me shiver
They thought that all along the river
Had been dry
As the sun
Blazes down
On the barren Texas plain
I keep on pushing
My ambitions
Onward east
Engulfing fog
And dangerous passes
Skies that pour torrential rain
Time had warned me
It didn’t matter
In the least

~ a guest author

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