Wild Stallion Of Ten Summers

my fierce enemy.
If you could run free
on vast grassy plains,
and mate at nature’s urge,
and hide your herd
in thick forests,
you would not need my yoke.
But time hangs heavy
on the civilized head.
That man who would be free
must first be bound.
A painful discipline
of limb and mind
that breaks the will,
which once again emerges
in new and marvelous strength.
All this at ten
you cannot know
angry, defiant male
when you are
told to practice
a tedious piano scale.

by June Stepansky

Other poems of STEPANSKY (116)

Comments (1)

Hi, I am Nancy! please how are you! hope you are fine and in perfect condition of health.I went through your profile and i read it and took intersest in it, please if you don't mind i will like you to write me on this ID(nancysamuel92@yahoo.com) hope to hear from you soon, and I will be waiting for your mail because i have something VERY important to tell you. Lots of love Mis Nancy Samuel!