Welcome To The Bullpen
Broken
Bro. Brad Curtis
There he stood as if chiseled in stone with nostrils flaring
With a stance that seem to say, who will be so daring
Who would climb upon his back and try to ride
This mighty steed of such power and kingly pride
For one could see he was master of the brood
He offered protection and capture had been his job to allude
After days of pursuit in the land where only outlaws dwell
He had now been driven into his own living hell
A pen, a corral or it could be considered a cage
For he had now lost his freedom, it did cause him to rage
So there he stood with nostrils still flaring
Waiting to see who would be so daring
Arrogance and pride could be felt in the mist of the air
Time to mount-up; accept the challenge and victory to declare
As the battle raged with neither willing to give in
The question now was which one break first and who would win
The fight had began with the object of pride to destroy
In the end one limped away with head dropped, not horses but cowboy
Not all can be broken or are meant to ride
But you will never know their identity until you mount up take the reigns and swallow your pride.
With eyes closed picturing how the day did unfold
Had he been wrong to be so brash and bold
There sitting on a split rail as the sun fell and did past away
The thought came to the cowboys mind, hes not that rank I just had a bad day
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