One Legged Stranger
Dusty man walk into town
The rising sun at his back
His ragged clothes full of patches and holes
Tan blazer close to his sides
Boot show hints of what was colors
Peg leg softly treading the western ground
He spends the day sitting on a bench
Beside the sleeping tavern
The faded hat hiding his eyes
He pays no mind to the people bustling by
Like a stone he turns not a head
Lies still, watching the people
Come and go as the sun above
He eyes search that old guitar
Eyes shine with every bump and scar
Memories of the life that was
While his hand feels for notes and chords
Softly he does play
Softly he does sing
No one hears, no one see’s
Comes dusk the setting sun
The man walks in the tavern
Tips his hat to the women
And pulls up a dusty old stool
Guitar in hand
Song in mind
He starts off soft
Pays no mind
To the folk at the bar
Drinking their whiskey and wine
He knows their listening
Ears strain
For that old time music
To wash their cares away
Once the sun is hidden
The party’s begin
People of all kinds
Start to trickling in
And before you know it
The Tavern is full
Celebrations and drinks
Passed all around
The man’s songs are now loud
Inviting others to join
Shoulder to shoulder
And very wide grins
They pay him in drinks
They pay him in laughs
Now everyone is
The man’s best friend
The guitar sings like an angel
It twangs like a drunk
It lifts the spirits
It makes them joke
It fills their hearts
Of the coming dawn
He knows every song
He plays every chord
He sings every melody
Till the moon is gone
The sun now peaks
Night is done
Day has come
The drunks stumble off
Laughing full of beer
The farmers leave
A smile to their face
No sooner forgetting
The song singing man
The folk trickle out
The place becomes still
Only a few drinkers left
Ears still yearning
For the man’s sad songs
It pulls their heart strings
It makes them cry
It drowns their thoughts
Of the days passing them by
The sun now shines
Chasing the shades
The tavern now empty
With a few stragglers
Travelers of day
The man sighs
His job is done
No change in his pocket
No title to his name
He grabs his blazer
Wipes off his shoes
Dusts off his hat
Straps his six-string
Tips his hat
And off he goes
Off into the rising sun
Left same as before
In every town
On every shore
There are rumors they say
He runs from the Law
He’s dealed with the devil
He’s cursed to roam
Death follows him
Waiting for his turn
Wherever he goes
Wherever he’s from
No one asks
No one dares
No one remembers the one legged stranger