Way back when, think very hard, of the very first horse you ever rode. The unsung hero upon whose back you timidly, but safely strode.
He toils thru his classes, new riders each trip. New set of signals, a different grip.
They pull on his mouth when they want him to go. Then they hit him a crack for going too slow!
They bounce on his back and wobble all around And are sure it’s “his” fault if they hit the ground!
They lean forward and squeeze heels in his flanks. If he lays back his ears, they call him a “crank”!
They jerk his poor mouth; pull his head to and fro, “Why doesn’t he trot, I told him to go?”
When riders get better, they leave him behind. A better horse they are off to find.
A better horse they’ll never find, Than the dear old school horse they left behind!