I went to
A gunfighters
Funeral today
Not a
Cowboy hat
In sight
The glamour
Of toting
Pistols
Not quite
The same
Without them
The sad faces
And souls of
The men though
The same now
As a century
And a half ago
The guilt maybe
Or the things
They have seen
Or maybe
All the bandits
Then and now
Started life as
Scared little boys
Of desperado dads
About Me
- stickbooth
- I struggle with addiction and am just recently out of prison- I dislike most people and am bitter and self destructive. Yet somehow I have a good time. My first wife wanted to be an FBI agent when I met her in college, and the last one was a prostitute,the former gave me three great kids that I named Dakota, Skye and Willow, the latter a hell of a hard time. In the past I have been a busboy, a waiter, and a bartender. I have worked in nearly all construction trades including carpentry, brick laying, electrical, weilding, and plumbing. Once I had a job where I climbed tree's for a living. I fought Mixed Martial Arts when they still called it No Holds Barred, I have sold cars and was an editorial cartoonist. I am a failed actor, to lazy to try very hard, and lived with outlaw bikers in Northern California. I served as a medic in the army,and studied creative writing as well as radio tv. I cook a mean breakfast and like to sit and think sometimes all day. Did I say think or drink?
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