Secretariat let his fire shine
A flickering flame
Secretariat ‘tis his name
The greatest racehorse of our time
He let his fire burn and shine
Galloping through the track
His jockey only once looking back
He laughs at fear
And surges forward
When the trumpet he hears
A bullet, the wind, could not compare
I only wish I were there
When he crossed that line
And let his fire shine
The judges blasted away
Secretariat’s only neigh
Sent shivers down their spines
He let his fire shine
That small little foal
His colour red, not coal
He made it far
He made it on top
Nothing could make him stop
He made his fire shine
He rushed past Sham
On that fateful day
Mud splattering the jockey behind
As he sprinted away
And made his fire shine
1 length, 2 length, 4
Secretariat sprinted more
8 length, 10 length, 13
How could this horse keep going?
He sprinted away
On that fateful day
he’s done what none
have done
before
the world was his
“The world is mine”
All because he let his fire shine
YOU ARE READING
Secretariat
PoetryThe greatest racehorse who ever lived was Secretariat. He won the Triple Crown championship on 6 June 1973 by 31 horse-lengths and his victory still hasn't been approached. He was a red-brown American-Thorough bred sired by the famous Bold Ruler and...
