Gall Stones

She’s had her heart smashed in two

by a certain gang or two

They left her out to die.

But she played them all

at their game; and came out

smelling like a colt.

A colt 45 swinging from her thigh

and she just stood up and owned it.

All the barn walls

came tumbling down,

and she stepped into

the dirt of the dog.

She curled up in her chair

because she missed her old friend

the one who entered the hog.

And the sun went down to

another day in the crowd

to drive alone in the truck.

Hunkering down in the up trodden luck

she stuck out her tongue, and held on.

She crafted her space

like a banshee in a race

and twisted his world all around

as she swung her pen on the couch.

Forgiveness must be earned.

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