In camp he was awkward, the sort of a man
That would upset a bucket or step in a pan.
He never took notice of what you was doin’.
He would ride up too close to a hoss you was shoein.’
When you was corralin’ the hosses some mornin’
He’d show up in the gateway without any warnin’.
He would leave a gate open fer jest a short while,
Then furgit it and ride off fer several mile.
He would finally go back there and shut it ag’in,
Never thinkin’ of stock that got out or got in.
If he knowed any scandal he’d spill it all right,
Where it started a quarrel or mebby a fight.
He was friendly and kind, he was honest and willin’.
But a feller folks lots of times felt just like killin’
No matter how hard that pore feller would try,
He did everything wrong and he didn’t know why.
(Bruce Kiskaddon)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Disagreement & Quarelling PoemsBased on Keywords: warnin, hoss, mornin, hosses, doin, willin, mebby, killin, furgit, shoein