I’ve been on my last big roundup,
I’ve finished the long day’s work,
For the many men who have rode me,
And who know that I did not shirk.
This spring I’m not in the remuda,
For now I am useless to stride,
I’ve given the best that was in me
In many a long day’s ride.
I once was the pride of the roundup,
Proud and polished and sleek;
Have served my time and I’m tired
And blemished and old and weak.
Ridden by many masters,
Kind, considerate and true,
Mastered by many who rode me
And whipped me and cursed me through.
Of the first I was proud of my burden
Of those who have called me Pard,
But the latter, the demons who beat me
Toward them has my heart grown hard.
‘Twas they who have aged me early,
To them do I owe my state;
But the others, the kind ones who loved me,
To them I owe love, not hate.
And I’ll be in another roundup,
That will lack the dust and the din,
And I’ll go on with the trail herd
When the Big Boss gathers me in.
(Curley Fletcher)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Work & Career Poems, Pride Poems, Hatred PoemsBased on Keywords: considerate, roundup, blemished, remuda