I stood over it

Looking down, in wonder

A fragment

One tiny piece, without a home

What is it?

Where did it come from?

How did it get here,

In the middle of this large room?

part broken off

An isolated, unfinished, and incomplete part

There’s a story behind this

How it got here, where it belongs

But this tiny fragment isn’t saying

It speaks no words about

How it was torn from the rest

And why it now sits,

Out of working order

And not functioning properly

In the middle of this large room

With no other pieces like it

© Dicky J Loweman 2015



Broken Wing

Four in the morning

Caution lit up, thrown to the wind

The good birds don’t sing, anymore

The moon is almost hidden

And I’m on the rise

Soft spoken words

Filled with twists and turns

Left this head spinning

As if on a ride

It moves too fast

I don’t think I can get off

So I twirl in the darkest part of the eve

Caned by all who look on

Flogged by fools

And mocked by the masses

Mistakes were made

Promises were broken

And now I’m left

With one broken wing

And no way to get home

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


On The Gallows

As I stood on the gallows

I could hear all the cries below

Hang the bastard

Let him go

He’s innocent

He stands guilty

At this point, it’s useless

I’m going where we are all going

Only I’m going to get there

A little faster than most

Faster than everyone here

That much is obvious

That much is clear

But I lived faster

And that should be noted

The fastest ponies always die the hardest

Broken legs

Broken reins

Broken first — and the hardest

My guess is that it sets an example

Something for all

To look at

To remember

To fear and root against

© D J Loweman 2015