My horse Bobby is trapped in horse hospital,
Bobby kicks at things that make sounds like the whips used to beat at him,
so Bobby is behind a wall with a window for his head to poke out,
and he pokes it out all time when I stop by,
and I hate to leave because goodbye leaves me to cry,
I'd of never seen Bobby's body,
if it wasn't for the spaces inbetween the bars on the wall,
Bobby back used to be nothing more then ripped up flesh,
Bobby lives in his own world of fear now,
in that little stall,
in that little box he is safe, yet trapped in his past,
Bobby reminds me of my past,
and how my room is like his stall,
and sometimes I get to stick my head out,
but I will always be reminded of those sounds of fear,
like to Bobby those sounds that scare him as if he was getting whipped,
I have my own fears,
I keep hold of,
never to get rid of,
Just like Bobby,
and like Bobby no matter how many times you tell us it's okay,
we still are fearful of the wrong that was done,
and easily could become done again.
Bobby, I may not be able to own you,
even if I could,
they wouldn't let me,
because you're in horse hospital,
so I want to make you and myself get better,
so I would be able to take you home,
and not cry when I leave you in the stall,
as you stick you head out,
and watch me leave the horse hospital,
Bobby my horse has ptsd, just like me.
