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Fool

General G.A. Custer
In a Hemi Plymouth duster
Rips through the Badlands
Unwittingly into his last stand...
Some young warriors in an old Pontiac
Wiped him out - in one quick attack.
Laying out on the plains dying
His widow left crying
The stop light he ignored
Always kept his throttle floored
Got what he greedily craved
Cost him an early grave
His motor was worn out
By the time he heard the Indians shout.
Now 'fool' is his eternal fame
'Defeat and Destruction' forever his name
His soul in such pain
Stands sullen on the plains
Starring at his own bleached bones
As an old praire junkyard is now
Their permanent home
Never more to run free again
The high cost of such foolish sin.

poem by Smoky Hoss
Added by Poetry Lover
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