Long Animalshorse Poems

Fighting Chance

I read about this true story - it happened in Elizabethan England - and was so 
upset that I needed to write this poem to get it off my chest. It's been published 3 
times.

FIGHTING CHANCE

The mobs that packed the place
Were slavering for blood;
They sniffed it in the air
And, drooling, watched it flood.

The bears and bulls were dead;
A horse was dragged to fight,
It whinnied, reared and bucked,
Its nostrils flared in fright.

The pack was at the horse,
Their hungry jaws like traps;
That brutal, bloody scene 
Was met with cheers and claps.

The gore of horse and dogs 
Had turned the dust red-brown; 
Those snarling dogs no match 
For hooves that thundered down.

The dogs lay scattered round;
The roaring crowd was awed;
But then demanded more:
A second pack was called.

The horse, insane with fear,
Exhausted, fought to live;
The dogs were fresh, but he
Should have no more to give.

His will to live was strong;
The dogs were on his back;
Defeating mastiff jaws,
He tossed and killed that pack. 

The rabble drunk on blood,
Addicted to it then,
Still called for more; the horse 
Was hacked to death by men.


Jack Horne