I found my shiny unicorn
But boring people are safe
And they wouldn’t leave me
Or make me suffer in terrible ways.

I don’t love the boring people
And they cannot touch my heart,
They do not inspire poems,
Or make love songs feel nice.

Boring people get married,
And they stick by your side,
You feel dead inside with them,
But at least they’re a safe ride.

My shiny unicorn is wilder,
And he glows in different shades,
But he’s a legendary creature
And disappears when he’s afraid.

He’s got a heart that’s full of passion,
And his blood is melted gold,
But he’s been shot by many arrows,
So he doesn’t allow people in his home.

I, myself, am not a unicorn,
My mortality is a fault
He cannot trust me to touch him,
As long as I’m in human form.

If I keep him in my garden,
Hunters might get too close,
So I have to watch his radiance,
From my window, up above.

I do love my shiny unicorn,
As he makes my heart burn,
And dream of fantasy and freedom,
While boring people are in my home.

I wish the world to be less savage,
And let my unicorn live in peace,
So many of his kind have died before him,
At the hands of some barbarous thieves.

I won’t let that happen to him,
I’ll let him roam and dodge the hunter’s curse
Though I am from the hunter’s kind, I know that
He cannot differentiate who won’t hurt.

I’ll even keep the boring people away from him,
For their ignorance would cause his demise.
And I’ll stay with them in my tiny cottage,
As they won’t abandon me for the green wild.

© 2023 Silver Poems