“Stick to your guns,” the father counseled.
He wished his shy boy the courage
to say what he had to say, not cower.
He knew his son wanted to be a cowboy
so, he carefully picked the right adage
to urge him not to be a coward.
Not disarmed and sluggish in his shell
but someone who stood two feet on the ground,
the Lone Ranger who would never back down.
He knew life could cloud with compromises
and form cracks with half-kept promises,
how easily plans could be capsized.
Stick to your guns didn’t mean stubborn,
a little brat’s “you’re not the boss of me,”
rather, to stay well-grounded in integrity.
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Stick To Your Guns