The Mustang Mare
A Poem
There is a mustang mare
Whose hooves run every which way
Her head is filled with purpose
But her her heart cannot obey
She soars and leaves the land
To join her dreams above
But alas, she cannot stay
For what frees some binds her: love
There is a mustang stallion
Who races on the ground
He lifts his head to smell the breeze
But never longs to bound
There is a price for freedom
That can cut you to the bone
The mustang mare has learned to fly
Left the stallion on his own
