Irony
Wild’s Soft Persistency Amidst the summer haze, A chestnut, lone horse stands. Patiently, we wait, Until he can be saddle-broken. Yet, this horse has a spirit. Will that ever be tamed? He holds his head up high. In the slight breeze, flows his mane. Although he seems secure, He really is alone. Why can’t we understand, How much that he has grown? In body and his spirit, He has been through much. For him, it feels like everything. He doesn’t have his mother’s touch. A whinny reaches his ears. He lifts his slender head; He is about to respond, But, should he wait instead? No, he cannot wait. Mightily, he bellows. Sadly, he gets no reply; So, he returns to the shadows. His magnificence is still there. He is waiting for a chance to show, That he really can do better. But, we do not know. It has taken so much time, To try to break his spirit. Yet, the chances are so slim; He is no way near it. He’s p...