Wyoming and the West

February 15, 2017
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I carried a plastic pistol and cherry wood hat
And dreamed I was a cowboy before I could run
I was the tamer of the Wild West
With boots and a name that everyone knew

No one wanted the boy who conquered Wyoming
Or the games and dreams I had
People wanted something that was normal
Something that was cut, trimmed, and caged

But never once did the dreams go away
Nor did the wind stop calling my name
I was a cowboy, blood and bone alike
I was the boy who conquered Wyoming
And the tamer the furthest Wild West

Soon though, my hat was too small
And the yelling voices too big
Normal was catching me and clawing
Shredding the young boy away

I hung on to him, refusing to be them
And prayed to every god that my grip stayed
The boy who tamed the Wild West
And conquered Wyoming
Could not just slip away

But with the flash of pain and betrayal
The young boy, untamed and wild
Left with a bus straight to the coast
And left me yearning for the wind
For the boots and hat worn and dirty
For the smell of Wyoming
And for the taste of the Wild West 

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