The Hidden Unicorn

I know there’s a unicorn that I can’t see,
Is she on my left or my right, where can she be?
She’s hidden well, very hard to find,
I look in front, but she’s behind.

There are roses here, both high and low,
But where’s the unicorn, will I ever know?
This unicorn is small and hard to see,
Only two feet high, or maybe three.

I know it’s soft and gentle to touch,
One I long to see so very much,
But she’s held down where the sun doesn’t shine,
Restrained by little, but enough to confine.

Soon, I’ll free this beauty and open the door,
So all the world can see unicorns, at least once more.







There is actually an interesting double meaning to this poem. I was seeing a girl who was a number of years older than I, while I was 18, and she had three tattoos. She had roses on her ankle and shoulder, and a unicorn on her butt. Now that you've read the poem, with this information, read it again. :) By the way, I never did get to see the unicorn.

Originally created on 2/21/89