Alone amidst the melee
of merry throngs,
he limps in pain.
There are no eyes to see.
Eyes cloistered in blinders,
sight forbidden from light;
imprisoned in chains
that slice tender flesh.
The lash of the biting
whip, a carriage three
times his weight;
trudging miles on end,
without rest or water,
in rain or snow.
Without proper care,
they die on the wayside.
Forced to run Derby races,
in voiceless torment.
Boarded on stifling
planes for cruel carnage.
Instead of a wheeled engine,
they punish a playful
comrade with pain to pull
a crushing burden.
Free and unrestrained
from birth, he once
raced with the breeze
with abandoned speed.
Now his legs buckle under
heavy loads; his hooves hit
ragged stones, as he blindly
wends his way on the roads.