Harrow Poem by Kevin J. Muricio

My name is Harrow, my heart's lame, and my soul's narrow
My mind's an arrow, I try to aim, but I hit no sparrow

That's how my rivals, bypass my flame, with wings of parrots
I can't see their arrival, my sight's to blame, for I eat no carrots

I never reach their level, the storm is back, and my ship's hollow
I feel am a devil, my thoughts are dark, for my tedious follow

Am lent some shoes, I get a grip, though I hate to borrow
With the laces loose, I make a strip, I'll run tomorrow

They laugh at my height, that coz am short, I lack a hormone
They may be right, and maybe not, for their say is common

With a little limp, a fall on the log, but at last I'll make it
I make no wimp, though am still your dawg, I hope you get it