She rode the stallion bareback,
pressed against his spine.
They galloped free together,
it simply blew her mind.
He was the stallion of her dreams
so sleek, and strong and tall.
Of all the things she ever loved
she loved him best of all.
She died of a massive overdose,
it was simply a matter of course.
And on the floor beside her was
a drawing of a horse.
A fragment from her childhood
when innocence was sweet.
The thing she loved the most of all,
lay crumpled at her feet.
jerry hughes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dream-47/
