Born on the Moors,
To a caring mare,
The rain on my face,
The wind in my hair.
Joy in my eyes,
A tiny bright foal,
with love in my heart,
That one day would fall.
Growing and learning,
Upon the wild hills,
Racing the wind,
A young colt thrills.
One day a big lorry,
With humans inside,
Drags off my brother,
Where dark tales abide.
My mother is frightened,
My father is brave,
My friend who was free,
Will now be a slave.
And then a great army,
Of twenty strong men,
capture my small herd,
Of my father and ten.
We are shoved in a dark truck,
Which rumbles along,
and are scared for our lives,
(which don't have long).
The food there is none,
And the water is less,
In the tiny dim light,
We wait in the mess.
And at last we emerge,
Into daylight again.
Where we're jabbed at with forks,
from the hands of the men,
And herded thru barriers,
Narrow and tall,
But I still have my mother,
And so I don't fall.
But I smell a strange thing,
An instinctive stench,
And it so frightens me,
That I twist and I wrench,
and I squeeze and I squirm,
And I try to break free!
he whineys are loud,
But my mother stays quiet,
though I think that she knows,
The reasons for riot.
So I calm just a little,
And trust in her age,
When I see a dark stallion,
Exploding in rage.
His hooves clash on fencing,
And the forks smite him down,
And he coughs up red fluid,
And quickly he drowns.
And the men drag him off,
With a rope round his head,
And I squeal with terror,
At seeing him dead.
And my mother shows fear now,
For herself and her son,
But the bars are too tall,
They've already won.
And we're inside the building,
Where the smell is so strong,
that even this young foal,
Knows what's going on.
And I don't try to struggle,
As I wade through the blood,
My mum says she loves me,
And I knew that she would.
For that was the moment,
Before we must part,
As the man with the knife,
Jabs it into her heart.
And stabs her again,
And once more in the head,
and she squeals and she dies,
And falls like the rest,
To the moving conveyor,
Which beckons my soul,
Then the knife falls upon me,
And so ...I must go.

I was born today.
My Daddy is very FAMOUS. I have lots of half brothers and sisters.
My Mother is very FAMOUS. Since she got FAMOUS, she has only had foals.
No more loving hands, no more daily grooming....just foals.
She is always sad when they leave her.

I left home today.
I didn't want to go so I hid behind my mama.
I didn't like you.
But, one day, they said, I would be FAMOUS.
I wonder, is famous the same as fun and good times?
So, you picked me up and hauled me away,
even though you were concerned that it took an hour to catch me.

I don't think you like me.
My new home is far away.
I am scared and afraid.
My heart says BE BRAVE.
My ancestors were.
Did they go to good homes like mine?

I'm hungry because I can't eat too much, it will be bad for my bones.
I can't play with the other horses because I might get hurt.
I just wander around my small dirt paddock, and pretend,
I'm in a big green field with butterflies and robins and frogs.

I can't understand why they hate me!
I am quiet but the man hits and says loud things.
The lady doesn't feed me good things like I had with my mother.
She just throws dry, dusty hay on the ground, then goes away,
before I can get too close for touching and petting.
Sometimes my food smells bad but I eat it anyway.

Today I had a baby.
He is so wonderful and warm.
Am I FAMOUS now??
I wish I could play with him but I am so tired.
I am so young that it is hard to be a good mother.
I am so hungry!
I wish someone would throw me some food.
I am also very thirsty.
He got cold during the night and we have no shelter
I couldn't make him warm again.
We are very weak.
Maybe if I whinny someone will notice us and give us food and water.

Today they took US away.
to a place with many other horses.
There were lots of people and loud noise.
Someone grabbed my foal. He was so scared.
That was the last time I saw him.
Is my baby FAMOUS now?
I hope so because I miss him.
He is gone.

I was put in a trailer with many others in it.
It is crowded and smells of urine, fear and sickness.
Why am I here?!
I was beautiful like my ancestors.
Now I am hungry, dirty, in pain and unwanted.
Maybe the worst is unwanted.
No one came, though I tried to be good.
No one spoke to me in gentle tones or stroked my soft neck.
I am in a small pen with many horses.
I am SCARED and ALONE.

Today someone came.
They chased us from our pen and into a room.
One by one we were herded into a chute.
I hear screams of agony, sounds of thrashing, and then silence.
Someone came and put me in the chute.
Someone reached in and patted my nose.
I felt tired and laid my head over the last one who cared.
I am ready for what will come next.
Today someone cared.
I AM FAMOUS NOW.