and now a hidden poem for those who search...

YOU ARE MUSTANG

by Stavo Mustang Craft

When you take your first steps, you are surrounded by the sounds and smells and sights of the herd. It is familiar. You take it for family.

When your legs become long, you begin to venture out into the dark on your own. You put away fear. You develop an appreciation for the dirt of the untread path. You begin to see the silence of stars at night.

Slowly these crystal-composed worlds replace the brash circus of the salesman, who expertly entertain and lead, with false promise and false reward, the human cattle into clad cages.

As your arms grow fitter, you develop a taste for the things you can only touch when no one takes notice. You learn the secret world of crickets to forge your next course in climbing.

Your neck bulges like a tree. Your eyes become adjusted to the dark and sight begins to ignite from within. You see not from the eyes of others.

You look back to the halo of the town and its people in the distance, where you once found such comfort. Your nose tells you that brand of safety is danger. Everyone huddles in the light of roads powered with false current. They are afraid of the dark. Because they have not learned to see.

You will not be going back.

You are mustang. You ride on...and you ride free.