Steel Toe Broncho. Poem by Steve Caine

Steel Toe Broncho,
Skin and bones, that don't go,
The Broken heart didn't know,
Should've thrown the race.

So, he's been reeling,
And there's no deceiving,
Coz they aren't forgiving,
the day he won that race.

They didn't tell him why,
he should avoid first places,
For he was just a horse,
And all he did was try.

He ran like the wind,
To all their cheering faces,
And he had no excuses,
The winning was his vice.

He, knew he was in trouble,
Pulled by cufflinked knuckles,
To a dark, dark place,
And no one told him why.

The cheers had gone all quiet,
As he could feel the tension,
As all the empty pockets,
Discussed the do or die.

As their voices rose,
He stood their listening,
Would they take his life away,
Or throw away the key.

And five years later on,
In the dark still standing,
Dreaming of his winning,
Off back in the day.

That's when you found him,
And you did your whispering,
And he got to talking,
And told you what he did.

And somewhere in his eyes,
The light shone so brightly,
As he was still winning,
In the dreams he keeps.

Names Steel Toe Broncho,
Skin and bones, that don't go,
The Broken heart didn't know,
Should've thrown the race.