Enough

[Boston John Doucette]

I had a request to re-post this old favorite...
BJD

Enough

He had the look of a gunman, an unwavering icy stare;
And the way he moved suggested that he no longer  cared.
He'd seen the worst that men could do and wreak upon each other;
Worn down by his violent life, he'd vowed not to kill another.

Wearily he entered town under a cloudless, starlit sky,
And hoped there were no fast guns there, in a rush to die;
From  Wyoming down to Texas, into the Indian Nations,
Every kid he met, it seemed, wanted a reputation.

Tying his horse to the hitching post, he entered the Palace saloon,
His eyes automatically searching for danger in the room;
He moved to the bar, through the crowd and smokey, lamp-lit haze,
And fixed the man behind it with a death-cold, piercing gaze.

But before he could order his whiskey a young man came to him.
"My name's James Long," the newcomer  said, "but you can call me Jim."
"No offense," the stranger said, "but I like to drink alone..."
He saw Jim's body stiffen and his grey eyes turn to stone.

"Stranger, I guess that  you ain't  heard how quick  I am with a gun."
"I know your type," the stranger said, "and you think this is fun.
You'll push around a cowboy until he's had enough,
Then drop him when he pulls his gun and tries to call your bluff.

I've seen your type all over, from the East coast to the West,
And sonny, I'm still breathing because I am the best;
Now, I don't want to fight you, kid, and that sure ain't a lie–
But you just pull that hogleg and we'll see who lives or dies."

The Palace had gone silent, and the patrons watched in awe
To see which man would truly be the faster on the draw.
They knew of Jim Long's temper, they'd watched this scene before;
And many wanted to see Jim Long standing at Death's door.

But the flicker of indecision that showed in Jim Long's eyes
Was enough to let the stranger know that this  kid wouldn't die.
"Son," he said, "I'm gonna drop my gunbelt to the floor,
Then drink a glass of whiskey, and walk out through the door.

See, I was just like you are,  back when I was young:
You think  your  manhood's measured by the quickness of your gun.
You've  helped  me make my mind up to get on with my life;
I'm goin' back to Wyoming, and then find  me a wife."

Slowly, with his left hand, he unbuckled and dropped his belt;
Then took a breath of freedom, for that was how he felt.
He knocked back his whiskey then strode out through the door,
And Jim Long stared at the notches in the Colt upon the floor.

copyright 2002 Boston John Doucette

[Big John Denny]

Thanks,

That was a good cowboy read.

[gryffon2004]

Thats a great story.  Dont forget, that no matter how good you are, the is always someone better.

[Goatlips]

Thanks BJD, I missed that one somewhere along the line.

Goatlips