Ageless spirits, beautiful at play.
Hooves once thundered across the valley floor
Backs of brown, black, roan, and grey,
They are free no more.
The wild mustangs have all gone away.
Taken from their homeland, shipped across the sea.
Curried, combed, and kept all alone.
Nostrils flaring, heads head high, only their spirit remains unbroken and free.
The wild ponies of the plains have all been tamed.
Gentled and loved, the way the cowboy says it should be.