A quick poem

positioned in the air, the area was cleared within minutes, miniature horses would prance around, astounding creatures they were, they lived in the garden, the hardened surface would glimmer with hope, with despair, they repaired it every morning, every night they came crawling back, rolling backwards, dissolving, evolving to no end, no deeds could be undone, we outrun them by a mile, for a while we thought we were dead, we bred too much, too little, the fiddle was replaced with an urn, turned into a mush, the rush was unmatched, we detached from our surroundings, our findings did not please them all, the mall was evacuated, a vacuum was formed in the middle, the hideous bones it harbored, a marble could tip them over, they go where they’re needed, a needle misplaced in an empty shell, our sells, our cells were always empty, empirically proven fraudulent, frolicking, licking eachother’s backs, sacks in which we store our mistakes, a dual abomination on the burlap, burning indefinitely, infinitely disappointing, pointing in no direction, no election, no rejection, an erection was visible to all, to roll over was detested, they rested between our legs, our toes, it goes either way, their way was not for us, we would gather around a table, we told our tale of cowardice, of malice, of malpractice, they listened every time, every rhyme was disastrous, a literary disobedience, no bodies were washed ashore, we made sure of that, the tenth of every row would get infected, defective plurals would get in their way, they say they don’t mind but we know better, we settle for less and less, a shot at the second best, no beasts, no feasts were held in their honor, raised in their names were no fists, no fun, unnverving to some, they come from every direction.