They rejected you, I know.

From a video,

They decided that you were ‘the one’.

But when they met you in person,

This poor, small thing;

Blonde and un-tamed,

Wild and ready.

Deciding you were not to their standards.

Out you went,

To those who cared not.

 

They whipped you,

Spurred and galloped you.
You could not fathom why,

But you did not give up,

You fought.

Fought for life,

Perhaps even for death.

‘Useless’ and ‘Pitiful’ were the labels tacked on,

But my boy,

You are none of those things.

You…

You are what dreams are made of.

 

A color made to rival the sun,

Gleaming hooves pound the dirt on which you trot.

White tail and mane,

Splayed out into the wind.

You, my dear, are what dreams are made of.

 

A heart, perhaps, larger than any human’s,

You pressed on to find the person under my mask,

The one I was forced to put on everyday.

You are my joy, happiness and light.

Smarter than so many I know,

You are what dreams are made of.

 

You saved me when I went to hell,

And even on the trip back.

You were in my dreams,

My heart and soul.

You captivated me in every way possible.

You are what dreams are made of.

For all of this,

I love you more than I could any other.