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Description
I am a prisoner. To the ideals in your mind, to tradition, to "the way it's always been."

You keep me enclosed, warm, and dry -- this is your idea of safety -- when all I want is to move, in the wind, and the rain.

You feed me things that were not meant for my stomach. You feed me too much of the wrong thing, and too little of the right.

You wrap me in synthetic materials, to protect me from the nature in which I was born to live, and to cancel out the survival instincts of my body.

You attach metal to my living hooves.

You keep me from my kind to protect me from injuring my body, but in the process you injure my mind.

You have projected your ideas of happiness on me.

You kill me with your kindness.

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Do your horse a favour: put him outside, give him a paddock mate, give him the forage he needs, find the good hooves he was born with, take off the winter blankets and let him get fuzzy.

The happiest horses are those that are permitted to be horses.

Description
I am a prisoner. To the ideals in your mind, to tradition, to "the way it's always been."

You keep me enclosed, warm, and dry -- this is your idea of safety -- when all I want is to move, in the wind, and the rain.

You feed me things that were not meant for my stomach. You feed me too much of the wrong thing, and too little of the right.

You wrap me in synthetic materials, to protect me from the nature in which I was born to live, and to cancel out the survival instincts of my body.

You attach metal to my living hooves.

You keep me from my kind to protect me from injuring my body, but in the process you injure my mind.

You have projected your ideas of happiness on me.

You kill me with your kindness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Do your horse a favour: put him outside, give him a paddock mate, give him the forage he needs, find the good hooves he was born with, take off the winter blankets and let him get fuzzy.

The happiest horses are those that are permitted to be horses.