Their equine grace and strength,
the beauty of a hundred wild horses,
galloping over grassy meadows,
blowing plumes of dust in their wake.

Their manes like rivers down their neck,
used to life in the untamed wilderness,
symbols of nature’s skill in her craft,
rippling with muscle and spirit.

But then the mouths which tasted untouched grasses
are held back with reins.
Given the best stables,
the best nutrition,
the most loving human counterparts,
yet they are wild no more.


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