The Fence Post’s Forgotten Story: Tales Carried in Wood and Rust

It wasn’t the land that made cowboys—it was their untamed spirit.

Upon the plains where wild winds sigh,

Stands a fence post, silent, standing high.

Its wood is weathered, its nails long gone,

Yet whispers tales of dusk till dawn.

In days of yore, when cowboys roamed,

A thousand roads and dreams were combed.

Each horse and lasso knew its name,

A marker strong in freedoms game.

Rust dances round its iron seams,

Holding the fragments of wanderers’ dreams.

It cradles laughter, love, and strife,

A witness bold to rugged life.

As sun dips low, the shadows spread,

The fence post hums the tales long-thread.

So pause a while, and heed the call,

For stories lived outlive us all.