[Potato.]

username; Wentz
name; Twilight Cigarettes and Valentines 'Valentino'
gender; Stallion
Eye Color: purple
sire: -
Dam: -

important note: not a grey, i repeat, not a grey

[SpotSong]

Username;
SpotSong
Show name;
Little Big Shot
Barn name;
Tequila
Gender;
Stallion
Halter color;
Red please!

Poem;
Rising Phoenix
- Colleen Houck

Does rising phoenix know its fate?
He's born, grows strong, and learns to fly.
He builds a nest and seeks a mate,
He sleeps and thirsts and hunts the sky.

Does he know his future blazes?
Aquelling flame will take his life?
When purging heat the pyre raises,
Consuming all his earthly strife?

Does stinging dread through his breast?
Does he regret past choices made?
Does heartbreak stir his feathered crest?
Does he perceive the price he's paid?

Exquisite once, his body burns
As he cries out in pain and fear.
Charred and black his feathers turn,
Conceding life, he sheds a tear.

From death so dire, another soul
emerges new to take his place.
With destiny and purpose whole
A glorious dawn begins a pace!

Does rising phoenix thank his sire
For embers black that gave him birth?
Does he too know his fate is fire?
Can he enjoy his time on Earth?

I love this horse and I love poems...oml <3

[ajax.]

Username; canuckkid1
Name; times gone by//beau
Gender; mare
Halter colour; surprise me
Poem;
Times Gone By
© Belinda Stotler
Published on August 5, 2016

Graves of those once loved in times gone by,
Quietly lying in rows beneath the Earth's sky;
Such a peaceful place of many deep sorrows,
Where the living walk among solemn rows,
Looking for the grave where memories lie,
As they recall the day of the final goodbye.

The dead bring memories of joy and sorrows
For loved ones walking among the silent rows;
Some stand by graves in hushed reflection,
Others speak aloud of heartbreak and affection;
Some visit for just a moment and others for a while,
Then walk away with a tear or memory's fond smile.

Many graves have mementos or lovely flowers,
Some with new sod needing nature's showers,
While others have clearly fallen out of memory,
With only stones showing a brief life's summary,
Until they fade and crumble over the long years,
When no one is left to care or shed grief's tears.

Each grave has a life story once known,
Stories created as life's seeds were sown.
Some stories live on in family histories,
While others wane into unknown mysteries;
All eventually forgotten as time passes by,
When all those memories grow old and die.

Such a peaceful place of many deep sorrows,
Where the living walk among solemn rows,
Looking for the grave where memories lie,
Sadly mourning until their own final goodbye,
When they too will quietly lie beneath the sky,
As their loved ones mourn for times gone by.

This poem honestly hit me quite hard and is one of the main midnight thoughts of this tolt c:

[~SpotOnAppy~]

username; ~SpotOnAppy~
name; Forsaken And Forgotten // Tia
gender; mare
halter color; Black
poem;

Res

[Tazaria]

username; .Taz.
name; Silky
gender; Mare
halter color; Based off this
poem;

Idk if this is a poem but to me it is, a small one,

[buckskin.]

username; MiloThePitbull
name; Captain Delirious//Deli
gender; stallion
halter color; black with red eyes
poem;
The man from Ironbark-A.B "Banjo" Paterson
It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
"'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark."


The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a huge cigar;
He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
He laid the odds and kept a "tote", whatever that may be,
And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, "Here's a lark!
Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark."


There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall.
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
To them the barber passed the wink, his dexter eyelid shut,
"I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut."
And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
"I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark."


A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin,
Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in.
He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat,
Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat:
Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark -
No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark.


He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear,
And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear,
He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe:
"You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! one hit before I go!
I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark!
But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark."


He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout
He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out.
He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck;
He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck.
And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark,
And "Murder! Bloody murder!" yelled the man from Ironbark.


A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show;
He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go.
And when at last the barber spoke, and said "'Twas all in fun—
'Twas just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone."
"A joke!" he cried, "By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark;
I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark."


And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape,
He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape.
"Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough,
One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough."
And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark,
That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.

[certified]

username;
CertifiedFreak1620
name;
Hidden Between The Valley // Meadow
gender;
Mare
halter color;
ombre green with daisies
poem;

"They say the things that finally break you
Are the words caught in your throat,
And she has years of thoughts not uttered
Crammed in the pockets of her coat,
A whisperer amongst the world
That's only learnt to speak,
Where silence must be broken
For the proof that it is weak,
But wheein lies the weakness
Of keeping words held in your hand?
When others listen to reply
She listens to understand,
Surely it's strength when things unspoken
Fill the room up to the brim,
And she's the only one among them
Who has taught herself to swim."
~e.h

[guilttripping]

username; Wentz
name; Twilight Cigarettes and Valentines 'Valentino'
gender; Stallion
halter color; Black
poem;[size=85]Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.
Valentine by Carol Ann Duffy

I feel this poem would fit his personality - bitter and spite for for he was turned down by his true love.

[DarkestWerewolf]

username; DarkestWerewolf
name; Cheyenne
gender; Mare
halter color; Soft baby blue
poem;

[Thelastsilhouette]

username; Thelastsilhouette
name; Winter's Wasteland / Winter
gender; Stallion
halter color; surprise me
poem;

A Haiku about Winter

A gaze of wonder,
Strong hooves that beat like thunder,
Come and meet Winter