Dark HorseA Poem by Lori Carlson
her face alight,
her dis~ease plastered
for the world to see.
words meant only for her.
She's grown accustomed to her own voice -
all other voices fall upon muted ears.
Poor Dark Horse!
So divided and alone
with only a troubled mind for company.
There is no freedom here:
trapped or controlled.
Patiently, I sit
until she returns to me once more.
© 2012 Lori Carlson
Added on April 8, 2012
Last Updated on April 8, 2012
AboutThou art to me a delicious tormentby Ralph Waldo Emerson Issue number 1: Recent events have made this missive necessary. I had hoped to avoid this, but WC is not what it used to be. From this moment .. more..