Hurt

OutlawBlues

Thunder boomed and the rain it lashed
A man strode down the quay in a stetson hat
People hurried, ducking their heads
Rushing home to be sound in their beds

People know the man in the stetson as Hurt
He's had his fair share travelling 'round the world
Water coursed down his face and some of it was tears
But the man hasn't cried in thirty odd years

He had just fought with his wife for nigh on two hours
He was sorry, so went to the quay to buy her flowers
She said she never again wanted to see his scarred face
So he picked up his black coat and walked out of the place

His knarled hands clenched to fists
He'll be hard-pressed finding a flower vendor on a night like this
But he would not relent, so on he pressed
Hurt asked after a flower-vendor, but only the best

The man he asked pulled out a gun
Hurt went for his knife but found that it was gone
He said, No! what about my wife?
The gunman said, Forget her man, I'm bound to take your life

He shot the gun, and away he ran
But it turns out he killed the wrong man
Now an innocent corpse lays six-feet under dirt
And marring the gravestone is the word 'Hurt'

Le Rack

the image of the tears and the water is great and the knarled hands; despite your seeming obsession with cowboys it not bad, a bit forced in the rhyme area but good.

OutlawBlues

i do have a little obsession with cowboys (mainly the hats though)
but, i didnt post any here... did i?

Le Rack

well you can see it in all your work, or all I've read anyway. John Wayne turned me off cowboys... good work though!