behind the green glass door, there are saddles but no riders. there are hooves but no horseshoes. there are carrots but no oats. behind the green glass door there is sorrow but no crying and there are giggles but no laughter. behind, behind, behind is there anything there at all and how can you tell? if you turn and look behind you really must be looking in front.
contrary to popular opinion, at times, it is advisable not to put one foot in front of the other, and this is why i will remain firmly planted on this cracked pavement. yes it is hot, but if i stand here long enough perhaps my hooves will melt to the road and prevent me from trotting along. if the early bird gets the worm, then the eager pony gets the unruly overweight child. no. i will remain here and i will not move. if a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, then a harsh whack on the rump is worth an absence of back pain and hair pulling.
behind the green glass door there is hopelessness but no hope.
1o cents per pound.