High horse
You sit there
On your high horse
With your lofty ideals
Judging
All that you survey
It is nice for you to
Grace us with your presence
I bet the Ivory tower that
You came from
Is a lonely place without you
Withering your gaze may be
But power it lacks
I’ve seen your type before
All it takes is a pin
Prick to shred your facade
And land all your little pieces
Around your mounts feet
How pretty they still look
A bit more genuine
Sharp enough to cut still
Each little piece a still shot
Of those ideals you held so high
If you can pick up the pieces
Put them back together
In some semblance
You’ll be stronger for all the scars
Chris McQueeney
12/13/14
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