Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.133.127.132

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Some were born to be show horses
pampered and highly fussed over 
little work but many accolades
living for tin canned applause..
Some are born thoroughbreds.
living for glory and golden oats
blinders ablaze- racing through life
oblivious to the rattle of time...

Then there's the humble plow horse
overworked and underpaid.
Swaybacked from societies harsh gaze
smoothing the way for both sashay and racer
forever looked down upon-never any applause
bending over for the ones 
that will eventually eat them....

Lastly, the stillborn
legs curled around coldness
never given the chance 
to glitter-thunder about or hoe

the plow horse will take the stillborn to the fields
and crows will give them their name-

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required