His breeding was impeccable, both parents winning races,

a thoroughbred, a racehorse through and through,

the trainer couldn't wait to put the young colt through its paces,

at last the big day came - the horse turned two.

The jockey had instructions, told to take it nice and steady,

the owner had arrived to watch the run,

the horse ran like a champion, the trainer said: "He's ready -

he's faster than a bullet from a gun!"

The big day at the race track came, the jockey couldn't ride him,

he kicked a strapper, tried to bite the vet,

the stewards saw him going off his head, disqualified him,

the owner took him home with deep regret.

The trainer said his temper needed mellowing and melding,

some stallions hated noisy crowds, no doubt,             

tomorrow morning early he would make the horse a gelding,

"There's two things there that we can live without!"

He did the deed, a month went by, the horse was cured completely,

he never even looked like playing up,

a miracle had happened, now he seemed to act so sweetly,

and next week was the Million-dollar Cup!

Came race day, in the mounting yard, he acted like a treasure,

paraded round so gentle and sedate,

no sign of any tantrums and no inkling of displeasure,

he cantered nicely to the starting gate.

The owner was impressed, with now the calmest of demeanors,

and record-breaking trial times, to boot,

with giddy thoughts of taking all the bookies to the cleaners

he went and bet a pocketful of loot.

The gates sprang back, he jumped okay and started running quickly,

then suddenly he stopped and stood there sad,

the owner ran across the track and saw him looking sickly,

he screamed: "You stupid racehorse - are you mad?"

"You don't know what it's like," replied the horse in consternation,

"I'm meant to be a thoroughbred, a toff,

my first time out in public since I had the operation -

and fifty thousand people shout: 'They're Off!'"

more of my FUNNY POEMS here