A Dark Horse

• Skye Thornton, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2021

The war came, the war killed, the war conquered.
My muscles surrender;
I cannot stand taller nor stronger
The ground snaps like candy; for there is nothing left to hide
No, I don’t deserve my ‘sonderbehandlung’
But neither does he,
The dark horse who brought a dozen years of misery
When the time comes for me to go, I shall look not on my sins
But on the near-forgiving life
As my mother grows older, I join her in tears
We go together, we go our own ways
A tear becomes rain,
Becomes thunder, then storms
Turns what was once clear, now into haze
Into a world that can no longer help take the pain away;
Weltschmerz.