Tate Morgan > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Here this man had stood by himself took the pain dealt to him alone For all the things that he believed he was willing to lose his throne

It had been six years to the day from that beautiful afternoon As there he knelt, hoping she felt as he had 'neath the harvest moon

We soaked the torch in gasoline lit that baby and let it burn “Oh yeah” we said, “they'll soon be dead” as we each torched ..

Some would like to make you believe that a blazing competition Is something you should all avoid as if the fires were perdition

Oh please just let me be gracious and smile when the day draws near Then wish him well, as time will tell if I can overcome my fear

So like am I a grain of sand I compare my lifes own worth To all who were my ancestors sharing roots of each others birth

I am sure it will outlive me standing long after my own time Taking note of my grandchildren lending life both music and rhyme

Their mother dreamed of better things for her little girls in this life She wanted more, than to be poor as an abusers little wife

I know someday he'll cut himself as boys always seem to do Mixing his blood, with tears and mud to each owner it ever knew

We never went on safari without carrying BB guns Which we toted, locked and loaded we were all mother nature’s sons.