Damaged Goods

Damaged goods,

That's what they call a worn down old horse,

Who was once healthy,

But is now stricken with fleas.

Good enough for nobody.

Not strong enough to be a race horse,

A cabby horse,

A mail horse,

Or a police horse.

Only good enough to sit in a stable at the horse fair,

Hoping someone will pet you.

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741