One Legged Stranger

Dusty man walk into town

The rising sun at his back

His ragged clothes full of patches and holes

Tan blazer close to his sides

Boot show hints of what was colors

Peg leg softly treading the western ground


He spends the day sitting on a bench

Beside the sleeping tavern

The faded hat hiding his eyes

He pays no mind to the people bustling by

Like a stone he turns not a head

Lies still, watching the people

Come and go as the sun above


He eyes search that old guitar

Eyes shine with every bump and scar

Memories of the life that was

While his hand feels for notes and chords

Softly he does play

Softly he does sing

No one hears, no one see’s


Comes dusk the setting sun

The man walks in the tavern

Tips his hat to the women

And pulls up a dusty old stool

Guitar in hand

Song in mind


He starts off soft

Pays no mind

To the folk at the bar

Drinking their whiskey and wine

He knows their listening

Ears strain

For that old time music

To wash their cares away


Once the sun is hidden

The party’s begin

People of all kinds

Start to trickling in

And before you know it

The Tavern is full

Celebrations and drinks

Passed all around


The man’s songs are now loud

Inviting others to join

Shoulder to shoulder

And very wide grins

They pay him in drinks

They pay him in laughs

Now everyone is

The man’s best friend


The guitar sings like an angel

It twangs like a drunk

It lifts the spirits

It makes them joke

It fills their hearts

Of the coming dawn


He knows every song

He plays every chord

He sings every melody

Till the moon is gone


The sun now peaks

Night is done

Day has come

The drunks stumble off

Laughing full of beer

The farmers leave

A smile to their face

No sooner forgetting

The song singing man


The folk trickle out

The place becomes still

Only a few drinkers left

Ears still yearning

For the man’s sad songs


It pulls their heart strings

It makes them cry

It drowns their thoughts

Of the days passing them by


The sun now shines

Chasing the shades

The tavern now empty

With a few stragglers

Travelers of day


The man sighs

His job is done

No change in his pocket

No title to his name

He grabs his blazer

Wipes off his shoes

Dusts off his hat

Straps his six-string

Tips his hat

And off he goes


Off into the rising sun

Left same as before

In every town

On every shore


There are rumors they say

He runs from the Law

He’s dealed with the devil

He’s cursed to roam

Death follows him

Waiting for his turn


Wherever he goes

Wherever he’s from

No one asks

No one dares


No one remembers the one legged stranger


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741