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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
i wrote this poem a while back. its needs a title. if you have one, let me know. and let me know what you think of the poem itself


There is a strong, defiant young farmer amongst us
He works all day, just to earn his pay
Out in the fields bailing hay, cutting the corn
His flannel shirt, and green Carhartt pants all torn
He wears his Chevy hat proud, driving that Silverado around loaded down with a freshly split cord of wood
It is his pride and joy, nothing special, just a truck that gets him around
Forest green with wood panels
He often radios over his CB channels
The boys and him, spend long summer days
Splitting a fresh load of firewood
Each out doing each other in their battle for manhood
This farmer, his brown hair and brown eyes, match the color of that wood,
He is often misunderstood, a former star wrestler, turned small-town farmer
He works this farm, hoping to one day inherit it
His boss worked this land with a passion for the past 50 years
Although he enjoys the work, one day he hopes to switch gears
Passing it down to the youngin
For the first time he will really know what is like to be running
A farm, a family, a way of life
He dreams out there on the tractor, of one day marrying his high school sweetheart
With fuel prices rising off the chart
He can only hope that he can keep this farm alive
In hopes that it will not succumb to the urban dive
He wants to raise a family on this land and thrive
His determination is all he has left in his final stand
As he holds that girls hand
He loves her to death
She has taken his breath
Since the day they met
Down by the creek,
He fights to hold back the tears because the days ahead are looking bleak
They are high, the prices these days
It seems like he always prays
The creek these days, ain’t what it used to be
For dinner tonight, a rainbow trout
Damn pollution, politics and doubt
These wild lands are about to run out
Stories of panthers, wolves and bears inspire his imagination
Yet these days all he sees are deer
He looks for that cure, out their
In those few free moments
The key components
Tracks, all he wants to see are the tracks of the eastern puma
Do these powerful beasts still roam the Skylands
At the fate of his ancestors hands
It seems as though they no longer prowl
And as soon as he becomes enveloped in the thought, he hears that coyote howl
And again he returns home
Where in his day dreams the panther still roams
Next to the creek is that big oak tree
Taking a deep breath, he gets down on one knee
She begins to cry and can’t wait to say yes
And no longer he thinks of this farms whole mess
He knows life will roll on
He loves this girl
She is his whole world
As fate would have it, a little boy arrives
And again he prays, may this boy keep it running
This farm, this way of life
 
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