Brown Unicorn

They call me a

Brown Unicorn,

But I don’t do Horns

And nothing on 

My hair, tail, or what 

I run on is Rainbows.

Ain’t nothing sweet

In my gallop

From my mom’s womb

To my unmarked tomb.

You gotta beware

Drinking water

From polluted lakes

Your spectators always watching;

Trying to raise the Stakes

Being rare doesn’t 

Feel like a blessing,

Because every little girl

Dreams of getting 

A horse and getting married.

Have you seen those videos

Of Black Fridays

Gone by?

People tearing toys

And themselves to shreds

For their little daughters 

To be satisfied.

Don’t like my tail chased

Or my head snatched;

All of my sanctified horses

That pull chariots

Probably won’t feel that.

Trying to find a virgin

That’ll tame me 

Might be far-fetched,

So I focus on my colts

Prepping them for 

The ongoing race

Against Time, Space,

And Reality;

A Triple Crown.

I also show them to

The Father, Son, and Spirit:

The Triple Crown.

You can always be

Reined in at any moment,

So I hope to find

Refuge and companionship

That’s mutually sought.

A Unicorn Mare 

Would do me fine.

Problem is, that’s just

As rare as I am to find.

-John Doeson