Mr. Henry’s crumbling, tattered farm goes in and out of view
Through my truck window
There’s an old horse with a droopy face and a saggy posture
Reaching to eat what green grass is left
Before the chickens do
Her body is a hollow cage
Worn and creaking
Taught skin and translucent white hair
A washed out and graying coat of dirt and flies
All the bones that should not show- do.
Her gentle owner loves her; but he is poor

When an animal is skinny-
It is ghastly, unattractive,
Sickly and heart breaking
So why do these warped-minded humans
Have such a sick obsession
With who can fit the smallest amount
Of measuring tape around their waist
With shrinking, decreasing in size and body fat
With being under weight
It’ll kill the horse
And it’ll kill you too