The Race Is Over Poem by Paul Reed

The Race Is Over



Dedicated to 'Vyta du Roc'



My dappled grey coat, sheened with sweat

As I try my hardest to land your bet

Knowing that loving hands will afterwards tend me

Wise deeds done to guide and defend me;



Suddenly, my race is run and over

Now I have dreams of fields of clover

My patient and understanding eyes can see

A restful place you have in store for me;



But if I could see just one month ahead

When my racing glory days have fled

I am viewed as slow and old

Dispensed with, discarded, cast out and sold;



And I stand here, shaking, terrified

In the place where human kindness died

My trust in you scorned and waylaid

As my dreams begin to fade;



You only wanted me for winning and prestige

Bravely to those fences I laid siege

But it was all just part of your cruel plan

Another loyal horse betrayed by man.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success