Freedom

Topic: walk a mile in my shoes
My life is awful. Take a mile in my shoes and you’ll know what awful is like. Just the shoes, even, are awful. Walking, trotting, pulling that cursed cart, with its cursed loads of humans, is awful. Why can’t I take my time in an open, grassy field, with the occasional ride upon my back? My master is a good one, a good human, a good man that gives dry hay to me, that gives carrots to me, but still I long for that field, the absence of little sticky fingers smearing stuff across my nose, that sweet, fresh water whenever I want or need it. Why can’t I be a free horse? Why?