Legacy Of Rodeo

There's a hundred years of history,
And a hundred before that,
All gathered in the thinkin'
Goin' on beneath this hat.

And back behind his eyeballs
And pumpin' through his veins,
Is the ghost of every cowboy
That ever held the reins.

Every coil in his lasso's
Been thrown a million times,
His quite concentrations
Been distilled through ancient minds.

It's evolution workin'
When silver scratches hide,
And a ghostly cowboy chorus
Fills his head and says 'let's ride'.

The cold flame burns within him
'Till his skins as cold as ice,
And the dues he paid to get here
Are worth every sacrifice.

All the miles spent sleep drivin'
All the money down the drain,
All the 'if I's' and 'nearly's'
All the bandages and pain.

All the female tears left dryin'
All the fever and the fight,
Are just a small down payment
On the ride he makes tonight.

It's guts and love and glory,
One mortal's chance at fame,
His legacy is rodeo,
And cowboy is his name.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
I didn't actually write this poem, its dedicated to all the Bullriders out there who have come off a bull and survived it. Lane Frost was a true cowboy, who in his day lived up to his name, at just 24 he was instantly killed by a bull name Red Rock which he rode at the Calgary Stampede championship finals.

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on Apr 2010
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