Contempt

Straight out of the bin
Where the wicked reside
We see the irreverence
Of his last ride
Neglect and disparagement
Mortification
Offhand and scoffing
Bearing no relation

To the sad gelding
Lying its soul passing to
It place in the sky
Far in front of you
Supercilious scornful
Shit of a man
Who feels that its right
To be seen as a fan

To pretend the last ride
Is his in a race
Such desecration
The look on his face
All the excuses
The public can see
How he snubs and insults
A soul thats now free

From the scorn and disdain
Of the whole racing scene
That superiority
For me its obscene
The animal still warm
Such humiliation
Unfitting unworthy
Its no celebration

How I feel for that horse
Ridden into the ground
The injustice of life
Each leap and each bound
Each muscle taut
each sinew too
His privilege sought

It was a thankless task
Even to ask
A smidgeon of respect
Even a flask
Of water when flagging
Instead of a kick
In the teeth no relief
From this covetous prick