Whitehorse Ranch Road © Ben Chase

Hard Road

It's a hard road ahead, my friend.

To the vanishing point, never bend.

No interstate highway, this.

No rest stops to take a piss.

You're not in the market,

when the market fails.

You're not in the market,

flipping heads or tails.

You haven't got a dime,

to your name, ta blame.

all you've got, my friend,

is what's left of your name.

And that ain't much,

for what is in a name.

It cain't buy you nothin’,

when you're old an’ you're lame.

You haven't seen the worst,

of what's in store for you.

For lightning strikes,

twice, out of the blue.

And tornadoes of fire,

are right down the line.

To inspire your sweet ass,

to do double, triple time.

This road has no water,

to quench your raw thirst.

You're parched to dry dust,

but haven't seen the worst.

So, you'd better get truckin’,

there isn't much more time.

If the end of that hard road,

is what you're seekin’ to find.

Copyright 2021 © Ronald W. Hull

8/12/21

You can read and print this poem here at my website.