The Race Is Over Poem by Paul Reed

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.