A Bag Of Broken Dreams
By Gunslinger
While browsing through a resale shop, A bag I chanced to see. A sense, almost, of deja vu- Came stealing over me. I placed it on the counter, And pulled it open wide... I almost dreaded looking at- The things I found inside. I found a glove, now dry with age Palm black with rosin, too The spurs came next, now red with rust- Their leathers far from new... The chaps were now more pink than red The years had took their toll, The rosin bag, I pulled out next... It helped him grip and hold... A bull rope and a tarnished bell- There's something else I see... A buckle made out, "Abilene" And "Nineteen eighty-three". A tear rolled down my leathered cheek- I stood there all alone... The bag reminded me a lot, Of one I used to own. I asked the lady what she take- For this old riggin' sack... She said, "I'm asking twenty bucks. I found it in the back." I handed her a twenty- A bargain so it seems... I walked out of the resale shop, With a bag of broken dreams. Written December 16th, 2001 © on Dec 15 2001 06:59 PM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
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"While browsing through a resale shop,..."