He ordered the finest whisky as he sat at the bar and buried his head The time had come It would be a long night Looming He considered in dread
His clothes were ill fitting They had seen better days He looked disheveled he knew, but couldn’t care His thoughts on his purpose As he nursed his drink Focused Avoiding the glare
Nine fifteen, his mark entered the noisy bar Full of swagger and arrogance He knew it was him There was no question Relaxed He ignored the dissonance
Finding a seam in the throng he worked his way through Sliding onto the bench next to his target Pressing a gun into the man’s side he fired Killing the devil incarnate
Well I read Jim’s blog on “I Shot the Sheriff” this morning and realized no one actually knew why her was shot. So I wrote a poem in the same vein. 🙂 The Devil Incarnate was a dirty sheriff in my story so perhaps he was playing on both sides of the fence?
This is good.
Thanks Ted! 🙂
Absolutely amazing. 🙂
Thank Jay-lyn. I went to the dark side like you do sometimes! 🙂💕 It was ok!
I really enjoyed. Nice imagery and the story telling…..😄😄💖💖
Wow! Great read.
Thanks so much Sadje 🙂
You’re welcome Christine
I wonder what it was that triggered such a violent act.
Well I read Jim’s blog on “I Shot the Sheriff” this morning and realized no one actually knew why her was shot. So I wrote a poem in the same vein. 🙂 The Devil Incarnate was a dirty sheriff in my story so perhaps he was playing on both sides of the fence?
Christine, this is a lovely poem and I really enjoyed it.
My first reply didn’t go through 😏 Well Jim I thought I’d keep the mystery of who shot the sheriff going. 🤣