Black Horse

You gallop with your nose high
On top of your imaginary high-
Horse. If only someone would burst
Your façade and show that you obtain the worst
Type of character.

In the real world you’re playing make believe
On a slender stick of sapless wood, a stuffed head
With flawed ideas (similar to yours) will never make me believe
You’re better than any character.

You trot alongside the peasants
Unable to relent
That I barely consider you
Half a hoof above the roaches.





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