A horses comparison

A horse 12 hands tall 
Chestnut, oak coat of hair 
Flowing main the wind does stir 

Galloping wild and free 
On the sands 
Across the sea
Valleys too 
Fresh green pastures new 
Passing under waterfalls 
Listening to the others call 
Never shall this horse fall 

He’s free as a bird
Like the bird needs the air 
A horse doesn’t need a rider to ride 
He has his own mind 
he just wants to gallop 
or maybe canter 
frolic in the morning sun
run as far as can be done
just wants to have some fun  
 

A horse 12 hands tall 
Born to race 
From open eye 
Trained to be the best he can 
But not of horse 
Instead of man 
A thorough bred 
Built so strong
His legs built perfect    
It won’t be long 

Racing down the emerald track 
Being whipped 
By its rider on its back
Stirrups dug into its sides 
Across the grass 
It hooves shall glide 

Hedges high 
Too high to jump 
Horses land with a thump 
Jockeys land with a bump 
Legs are broken 
Bones are shattered 
But what’s it matter 
You got your money after your flutter 
And the jockeys fine it’s no big deal 
But can you hear that horse’s squeal 
It’s bones won’t heal 
Its reward for trying its best
Will be a single bullet to the head 
For running that field 
Its reward is death 

A horse 12 hands high 
Built so strong 
To pull your ride 
to pull a plough through muddy fields 
what’s the deal?

This majestic beast that stands so tall 
Seems to have no choice at all 
Do you think that’s really  fair? 
Do you even really care?

Horses have been used through centuries old 
They have pulled the cannons in past wars old  
Pulled the barges up the canals 
Started young as little foals 
To do your workload and achieve your goals
Some are worked till frail and old 
Then at the end when of new more use 
are purely sold
made into glue and tins of dog food 

Some have battle scars 
Where their master charged the fields 
The horse itself 
Felt cold steel 
What’s the big deal?
Well it kind of feels  
It felt the blade enter its skin 
It sees the scar left from 
Closed skin 

But do they have a choice? 
Do we hear their voice? 
And If we did
 what would it say?
Would it say ride me hard 
Ride me quick 
Whip me with your crop stick 
Thank you for teaching me tricks 

Would it say, make me jump 
Higher than I thought possible 
Would it say I am adaptable 
Would it say put a bit in my mouth 
So with your reins you can pull my mouth 

Or would it say 
Leave me alone 
Let me roam in pastures green 
Wild and free 
To live my life
with my family 

maybe all the above is wrong 
who am I to right a wrong 
but when we hear a poem about 
a horse 
is it about it being worked till death 
or being used as transportation 
or recreation? 
no, well not what I’ve heard 
they are about riding free 
being one with nature 
not a photo or feature 
they don’t need a master or teacher
they are a majestic creature.