Terry Horn Poem by Catherine Casey

Terry Horn the bombardier -

Blood vessel bursting shouts

He loved to hurt the raw recruits

With thumb-lock training bouts.



In Civvy -street, (still disliked)

He rose up in the ranks.

With ridicule - was how he climbed

His covert dig to flanks.



His ironed shirts disguising.

Soft spoken to picked few.

On the brink of full guns blazing,

Gestapo boots - more true.



His outbursts came more frequent

With cursory disdain.

All underlings were lesser men

And hardly worth a grain.



He, his own worst enemy.

His spirit - contracts lost.

The signage place went belly up.

From status job was tossed.



Judicious - when he chose to

Be - coming nice again.

Won desk inside car showroom.

Contingent of the vain.



Round the back he found a crew

The maintenance work shop.

All malleable when thumbs in check.

Repeated - false pride's prop.



Then came by a past victim

Free from his ranking's hold.

Walked past his desk of newspapers.

Both recognised twofold.



Horn while feigning normalcy

Imagined on the spot.

The tables turned while managers -

Watched on. His soul would rot.



Retreating to the courtyard

Of fellow engineers.

He waited till the fore time man

Was leaving from Horn's peers.



Sure to tell, the victim left

And drove away with snoop.

His rear view mirror saw the scorn

Horn mustered in his group.



The sneering smile still wounding

Made sure there - still a sting.

A boastful 'I will haunt your thoughts.

Your memories will ring! '



A wending nose up swagger

Lead back once curses vented.

His fellow ausculators 'scaped

Knowing ill presented.



Horn found note upon his desk

From man who drove away.

A smiley face in yellow ink

And words that made him grey.



'I forgive you fellow man.

Though others think you sad.

None dared tell you at the time, for -

Fear - losing work they had.



But knowing this already,

Makes all the more your guilt.

A bully by another name.

I'm sorry for your tilt'.



Sure to form he raged but seen

By this time - his outvote.

Jumping round and shouting out loud

All customers took note.



So soon - domino effect.

The shutters fitted snug.

The car-sales such a tumble took.

Horn's temper pulled the rug.



Where Horn is now? No one knows.

Perhaps you've seen his style.

At least one person bade refute,

Ascended from the trial.