Race Horse

Did you watch as I ran that race
In your glamorous hat with champagne in hand
Dressed to the nines in delicate lace
Dancing with excitement as you screamed from the stand?

It seems I won that race for you
My owners boasting and counting the cash
Taking off your heels for the party they threw
Recounting over and over my final dash

You jumped for joy yelling my name
Laughing and anticipating my number call
Repeatedly whipped again and again
Broken, I stumbled in my fatal fault

That very night all the papers read
How it could have been so very much worse
“Thank God”, they wrote, “nobody’s dead”
No longer alive to make millions, their only curse

Yes, you watched as I ran for my life
Yet not for one moment did you see
Blood in my windpipe, painful joints, ulcers and strife
Or that I was drugged, stabled, lonely, and seldom free

You heard my number, but you did not listen at all
Or you would have heard my pitiful distress
In agony veiled behind that green screen wall
I died, while you danced in your party dress

The excitement you felt, was yours not mine
Watched but never seen, as they made a killing
Heard but never listened to, you believed all was fine
You missed that I was a sentient being, and never willing

Gates Of Hell

We approached the gates of hell
Towards a pristine sunrise
Mesmerized we stood in its spell
Trepidation betrayed by our eyes

All too soon first light had broken
Eerie silence giving way to blood curdling screams
Holding our breath not a word was spoken
Facades crumbling into tears of streams

Brave men attempted a joke or two
Holding flowers women dropped to the ground
Kneeling in helplessness it was the best we could do
Amidst souls squealing those gut-wrenching sounds

As captives they’d known a life of terror and pain
Macho devils relishing in cowardly power
Over innocent beings without as much as a name
Thrashing in gas chambers in their darkest hour

Cooking from within they remained undead
Their hearts still required to beat
Hooked by a leg, throats slit so’s to be bled
In order to be packaged as healthy, white meat

That day we walked away with our backs to the sunset
Unable to speak our hearts trailing behind us
Each nigh wekneel for those we cannot forget
Your bacon, ham and pork there to constantly remind us

Gentle Giant

Disorientated, he ran towards the burning light
Running from his captors, to the jeering crowd’s delight
While center stage the matador stood so brave and proud
Whipping up a frenzy, from the blood thirsty crowd

The frightened gentle giant had been held inside a box
Tormented by his captors from behind hidden locks
Vaseline used liberally to blur vision from his eyes
Newspaper in his ears, and cotton up his nostrils to snuffle out his cries

A strong corrosive solution on his legs gave greater pain and more
Too painful to stand, even more to walk, unable to lay on the floor
A needle inserted into his genitals as any gent will tell
Is the greatest testimony to all, there exists a living hell

Amongst the mass hysteria he did suddenly recognise
The one who’d bred and raised him as his winning prize
The gentle giant approached seeking to be relieved
The bond they’d shared together, in which he still believed

Each towards the other, they both made their way
The gently giant assured himself, he’d finally get away
That crowd, pleasing moment far too tempting to resist
His breeder rewarding his audience, with that show stopping kiss

It was the kiss of Judas, that final kiss of death
Taunted, the gentle giant knew, that there was nothing left
A torturous end awaited, as he fought for his life
Repeatedly blood squirting from a sharpened knife

The gentle giant that night, lingered till he died
His groans of agony drowned out by the crowd’s orgasmic high
Yet the knife that pierced his heart, was not the deepest of them all
As his eyes searched the crowd, it was not he, who fell from grace, in his final fall