There's a Walmart
where a Willow used to stand
a cement pond
where once a river ran.
The dusty gravel roads
I walked down as a child
hold mem'ries of those easy days
and spirits running wild.
The town in which I grew
once home to very few
spread like grassy plains
and the smile on mountain dew.
At the Rosebud bar and grill
when howling at the moon
a man could have a cold one
and hear a country tune.
A sawmill on the river
where my daddy earned a wage
was swallowed up in time
with the turning of a page.
Like echoes in the wind
and the sound of distant screams
progress passes by
leaving little left but dreams.
Comments
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wow
another good song. strong use of rhyme. reminds me of paradise with your own take. i love the image of the old sawmill contrasting with the needless, but, ever present wall-mart. easy dirt streets and childhood is another fine picture.
all the best,
kevin o'connor/ui'connabhair -
The wheels of progress have certainly taken away a lot of memories from us oldies. The changing of the times has not always been to advantage.
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Outstanding Write
Excellent take on the changing times.
"Home" as we once knew it has supposedly transformed with progress;somethings I would never change is the good times that linger on!
Well done.
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David
this is a great write & so very true. all in the bame of progress. over 6 billion people & growing. where shall we put them without destroying the earths beauty.
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