Like a wild Stallion
that wont be saddled, spitting the bit,
I bucked and threw every rider
galloping toward the infinite open....
Nostrils flairing, mane blowing
it was a brief sprint of being harnessed to noone
until, as all dreams, I stopped at the end by a fence
only to be led back, by a lead, broken and bridled
John Tansey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-very-short-terse-poem/
