They gallop across the plains,
They run free in the mountains,
They fly on swift hooves like the wind.
There home is the wild,
They live and hide among the trees,
Their herd is a tribal gang fighting to live.
They drink from the rivers and streams,
They eat the green grass of the prairies,
They fight against all odds to stay alive.
They are Wild Horses.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
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