Billy The Kid Poem by Harry Bryant

Billy The Kid



There once was a gun fighter, named Billy the kid,
he went down in history, for the bad things he did,
He killed in anger, he killed for fun,
he killed for nothing, he killed with his gun,
he was in Lincoln county in the range war,
he had some companions who really got sore,
I can see them now in my minds eye,
drinking and carousing and thinking their sly,
but one day it would all come to an end,
young Billy would be killed by one his friends,
there was a sherrif Pat Garret by name,
who took exceptions to Billy's bad game,
so he set out to find him, to bring him on in,
said he would get Billy, before Billy got him,
he found him one evening, drunk as could be,
took him to the jail house, before he could get free,
but the jailer got careless and Billy escapes,
to go on a killing rampage, with maybe some rapes,
Garrett he trailed him, and hunted him down,
finally found him, in a New Mexico town,
Billy was fast, lightning on the draw,
but Garrett was the fastest that young Bill ever saw,
Bill didn't feel the lead hit him, but looked up at the sun,
it was then he knew he was killed by a Garrett's gun,
down went young Bill prone the ground,
a crowd of on lookers gathered around,
some wanted to be sure that Billy, was really dead,
so he couldn't come back and fill them full of lead,
while Bill's life was ebbing and fading away,
Garrett knelt down beside him and started to pray,
Lord take this young cowboy into your grace,
he went through this life drifting, from place to place,
no one to love him, to call him their own,
now he is in your care, his sins to atone,
many men died by the shots from his gun,
now he lies there dead, and he is just twenty one,
how many he killed nobody knows,
but on his grave, somone planted a rose,
the rose it grew in to a beautiful vine,
but it never flowered in all of its time,
some say it was because of the ones that he slew,
some outlaws, some lawmen and a woman or two,
say a prayer for Garrett, as he lies in his grave,
praise his courage, for the lives that he saved,
by killing young Billy, that day on the range.

written by Harry Bryant
8/19/04 12: 04: 06 AM �
all rights reserved

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Harry Bryant

Harry Bryant

Houghton Lake, Michigan
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