Mr. Pratt

I heard about my grandpa's friend Paul The other day when I just happened to be At the horse sale leaning overa stall. I remember at the sale he always was the man to see, But it seems he isn't doing so well anymore. They put him in the old folk's home, but that's bad to say, So instead they said they'd put him out to pasture, to ride no more, Or at least that's what his fellow cowboys would say. I remember that man in the saddle, sitting tall With that look in his eyes that said he loved horses. That's what my grandpa talked about with his friend Paul, Not Old Al's drinkin' problem, or their kid's divorces. He always had an eye for a horse of a certain stature. You nearly always saw him on a horse that was tall. He bought a horse there sometimes, but he wasn't a bid snatcher. Yes, He is a good man, one of the best, Old Paul. Now his son Charlie brings Paul's horses to sale, And he puts his great grandson up in the saddle. You know 'cus it's Paul's horse that it'd take you through hell, Or bear you across a rough river herding cattle. But I wonder what he's thinkin' in the nursin' home, And wonder what he would say if he'd been the one who saw The sad faces that knew he'd never more roam When they saw that boy on his horse instead of Paul. **Alright, it's been a long time since I actually sat down to write. This one is true and was requested of me, so I wrote it. It still needs work. Any ideas?**