You did your best, to perform and please
while your body was suffering with pain and unease
the bit and the spurs and the whip, all the gear
were constantly harming you year after year
Nobody noticed the pain in your eyes
the pain you endured to winning the prize
nobody saw the struggle you fought
while performing piaffe or extended trot
You tried to understand what they wanted from you
but the pain made it hard to notice the cue
you often thought they would break you apart
to master the rules of the fine dressage art
You started to ask yourself why you were born
only to see all your dreams being torn
no play and dreams and no will of you own
just painful work, then left all alone
But now the days of performing are over
you are free again and you will recover
so run little friend, run over the field
breath the free air again, let your scars be healed
Roam free, dear one, leave the bad times behind
your friends are there waiting, get some peace of mind
life is not fair, but you never knew
as a child what you later would have to go through
The harsh hands of men and the women you met
is a part of your life that you now must forget
if they could see what they did to you
their life would be nothing but a secret taboo
But now the days of performing are over
you are free again and you will recover
so roam little one, run over the field
breath the free air again, let your scars be healed
Poem by: Karine T. Knudsen © Titanica Art