Poetry

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I am Warrior horse, made to run Wild and Free,
As I leap over barriers, that try to hide what I need to see.
The race track is a road, that goes on and on,
Through countless forms of terrain, I'd rather were gone.
Yet, I learn to jump forward and hold my head high,
As I overcome hard moments that had left me high and dry.
Becoming a feisty fighter, responding to what comes my way,
Making choices, that affect the course of each new day.
Breaking away from what holds me from being free...
To be me... A feisty fight horse made to run,
Wild and Free

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