Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2016
He was a horse of a man
equestrian you might say
Hi Ya Horse!  would call
as he cantered along his way

shirt three buttons open, tattoo on his chest
blinged medallion stallion
a breed above the rest

of course he was no stallion
his looks were crude and bland
larger in **** pocket, nosebag in his hand

his mane was long and full of dirt
it never  saw a rake
yet still he thought that he could flirt
I know, for pity's sake

still and all he loved to hear
Hi Ya Horse! called out
hoping for a filly at the other end of shout

one day, not paying attention
look out Horse ! cried out
he walked in front of a speeding bike
and knocked the cyclist out

nor did Horse recover
amongst that steel and blood
for when they finished treating him
he would never now be a stud

he was a shadow of a man
timid you might say
Hi Ya Horse! they'd call
as he looked the other way

yet  in his mind he'd still recall
his former glory day
Hi Ya Horse! would echo
as he limped along his way.

they shoot horses, don't they ?
Harriet Cleve
Written by
Harriet Cleve
381
   Moonsocket
Please log in to view and add comments on poems