My Model Horse

Coal-black eyes show wisdom beyond his years.
A coat the colour of creamy parchment that is silk,
Soft like baby bird’s down.
Flared nostrils, sooty muzzle, and dainty faced.
Ornate.
With one glance you can see he is frozen in mid dance.
Once new and bright, now old and faded.
Though he is frail he is made of titanium at heart.
The marks from scissors and crimson from my mum’s sharpie pen,
My horse bears it all.
He came to me when I was 3.
He was the joy in my younger years
Most others have gone locked in boxes
Praying I would leave them alone from my childhood torture.
But not him. He stayed with me for all these many years.
With my plastic horse I can go anywhere I desire,
He will be there with me.
My Proud Beauty