Free At Last.

My racing days are over
Thought the pain would go away
But soon I learned a different fate
Was headed straight my way.

He reached his hands into my cage
And pushed me out once more,
I glanced at all my weary friends
As he led me out the door.

It hurts to walk; it hurts to stand
Been through all I could endure,
But all my pains are nothing that
Someone’s love could not cure.

I’m pushed against a concrete wall
And I know I’ve failed the test
He said I wasn’t fast enough
And reached into his vest.

I close my eyes and cower
As I shake, my senses dull,
Then I feel the barrel of a gun
Against my skull.

Isn’t there a better way
to entertain a crowd?
But my thoughts are interrupted
By a noise so hard and loud.

I’m just another failure
Racing to my final day,
And sometime all the winners
Will lose a race someday.

They call it an “exciting sport”
They say that it’s humane,
But a sport that always ends in death
To me, is not a game.

Lynn Kargol August 13, 2001