Dark Horse

I think of you

And I think of smiles and laughter


I also think of darkness

A shadowy mystery that lurks in you

A bitterness and hate much like my own

What drives you to do what you do?

A dark horse perhaps?

Always galloping without love

Without a home

With memories drawn in blood?

Or are you just a wild horse?

Is it that you are not with bloody memories at all

Is it that you simply lack discipline?

Is it that you lack discipline like so many other humans do,

That so many other humans accept?

Two sides to each story

Two sides to the horse

The side where the sun bounces of your glossy coat as it sets

And the side left in darkness

What's on the dark side?

A dark horse or a wild horse?

Is the hate I sense in you really there

Or is it just lack of discipline?

Are your memories drawn in blood or wine?

Do you gallop to escape or because you can?

Are you a wild horse on the other side?

Or are you like me, a dark horse?