well, when i was little i did want to own horses
my thoughts are a poem,
but i run into trouble whenever
i try to corral them on paper because
they like to twist away and run in
circles, like wild horses,
making me dizzy and
not making sense.
i keep trying, and sometimes
i wind up with a success story
like all those famous horse novels,
and other times
i wind up breathless and covered in dust,
empty-handed.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: