Conformity
They kill horse don’t they
Economical strokes
Of the knife
That let the blood drain
Gushing at first
Into the sand
As they watch the light fade
From eyes that trusted
Then move on
To destroy more dreams
And things of beauty
To create a world of grays
For the colour blind
And one of conformity
To deter the poets
And the dreamers
They kill horses don’t they
Copyright © Terry Ireland | Year Posted 2022
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