| Subject: Farewell, Oh "Wonder-Horse"! |
Author:
Ted Yahraus
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Date Posted: 21:03:08 06/22/02 Sat
Author Host/IP: roach-tc1-064.link2000.net/63.160.187.113
Your conception, a mystery, a copy you were,
A shadow, not real, with hints of true form,
Never breathing carnival air, of that we are sure,
But made to add cheer, to lighten, to warm.
Frozen mid-gallop, so akin to real things,
Your painted contenance mimicked a snorting equine,
But alas, your life would see no brass ring,
Ruling a kingdom of kids' clothing, top of the line.
That bright store did see its days finally end,
All dances must close, a solemn last twirl,
'Ol "Carousel-Copy", to auction did send,
From one hand to 'nother... on to ex-carnival girl.
A true carny's heart can't live with the false,
When bonded to culture, so simple and true,
To have a cheap copy? Must go! Nothing else!
That horse had no feeling, and couldn't be blue.
The tale winds down, our horse-shadow moves on,
That prancing pony, now in world not so real,
Is gracing antique shop, the customers to con,
A carousel relic? Your fate still unsealed...
Those sightless eyes ponder your next world to be,
While sitting amidst the past's discards and dust,
Painted cheeks so deprived of tears, you see...
Your ebbing memories, losing shine, showing rust.
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