Get Rid Of The Advertisements

Lincoln's Last Ride
 

 
There's a slow funeral train
That's rolling through the hills
I can't believe he's been killed

Everytime I hear the whine
Of a lonely whistle in the pines
It sends a chill up and down my spine

The war was brother against brother
And it was fathers against sons
They banded together as one

They bowed their heads
And said a prayer for the dead
Wondered if the battle had been won

Soldiers and dirt farmers
Rival Senators stood in line
All cried like babies when he went by

This is Abe Lincoln's last ride
Old Glory covered him back to Illinois
His spirit watched down from on high

The Infantry found a man on the loose
Said they gunned the assassin down
Not waiting for a hangman's noose

They said the man fired the shot
That took poor Lincoln down
Booth was his name is all they got

Was it a Conspiracy or not?
The good Lord only knows
He never seen who fired the shot

There's a slow funeral train
That's rolling through the hills
I can't believe he's been killed

By mikemezz

© 2019 mikemezz (All rights reserved)

 

Read more poems by  mikemezz
Send this poem to a friend
Read 3 viewers comment(s)




The Starlite Cafe Discussion Board | Home

Back to Previous Page