Bucking The System (Poetry)
07th April 2019
I’m being ridden by a wild man
with scars upon his face
am I a woman or a horse? —
my saddle’s silk and lace
my reins are pearls, my mane is blonde
with ribbons platted through
what breed of animal am I? —
I’m desperate for some clue
He digs his spurs into my side
he curses in my ear
I clamp my jaws around the bit
and swallow down my fear
I kick my heels and gallop on
my hearts beats like a drum
his breath upon my neck blows hot
there’s still a mile to run
I feel the lash of his cruel whip
it cuts my sweat-soaked rump
I panic when I see the fence
he’s lined me up to jump
I shy away and thus he’s thrown
he rolls in agony
I’m running through a field on fire
consumed — my soul set free
with scars upon his face
am I a woman or a horse? —
my saddle’s silk and lace
my reins are pearls, my mane is blonde
with ribbons platted through
what breed of animal am I? —
I’m desperate for some clue
He digs his spurs into my side
he curses in my ear
I clamp my jaws around the bit
and swallow down my fear
I kick my heels and gallop on
my hearts beats like a drum
his breath upon my neck blows hot
there’s still a mile to run
I feel the lash of his cruel whip
it cuts my sweat-soaked rump
I panic when I see the fence
he’s lined me up to jump
I shy away and thus he’s thrown
he rolls in agony
I’m running through a field on fire
consumed — my soul set free