I am a workhorse, a servant,
galley slave of the gambling trade
hallowed hero on public parade
put to the test, despite my protest
running, jumping, whatever you ask
fighting your battles from dawn to dusk
I sprint for my keep, swift on my feet
spirit in flight, God’s masterpiece
a commodity prized, beauty glorified
sacrified in a rite of pride
on me you ride, rely, and contend
a possession, obsession, or friend
I am
your champion
© World Racehorse Memorial
