deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Hard Luck Kid
His breath is hard with whisky, his eyes bloodshot and hazy from its effects as he stumbles out of the bar. He lights a cigarette and fumbles drunkenly with the old Zippo a long lost lover gave him years ago.
He's tall, about 6'2 and mostly lean muscle, his cheekbones are high and his jaw angular. His hair is dirty blonde and shaggy past his collar. He wears a pair of faded levis and an old chain wallet. On his feet are a pair of scuffed and worn cowboy boots.
He looks older than his twenty seven years, his gunmetal gray eyes have seen much more than their share. He walks drunkenly to a beat up 62 ford pickup and climbs inside before firing up the engine and driving away, back to the old camper he calls his home.
He's tall, about 6'2 and mostly lean muscle, his cheekbones are high and his jaw angular. His hair is dirty blonde and shaggy past his collar. He wears a pair of faded levis and an old chain wallet. On his feet are a pair of scuffed and worn cowboy boots.
He looks older than his twenty seven years, his gunmetal gray eyes have seen much more than their share. He walks drunkenly to a beat up 62 ford pickup and climbs inside before firing up the engine and driving away, back to the old camper he calls his home.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 675
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.