The Albino

A horse of pure white, rearing with tossing mane-
Running with the wind in sunshine or rain,
He took care of his mares-even unto death-
He would fight for his charges to the very last breath.

I loved the story of this horse-
Wild he was, but also a good source
For he sired colts with both strength and speed,
They were a credit to any breed.

Most of his colts were also pure white-
Their coats shining and glistening bright-
He had one special son who was never polite,
But liked to get close to Dad and give him a bite.

The son liked to fight, but the stallion made him run-
The Dad was satisfied, thinking he had won,
But his son became bigger until he was a horse,
He came back to fight the Albino and won, of course.

The old horse limped off and died very soon,
For he couln't stand losing and his injuries were strewn
All over his body-He was a gallant, fighting master,
Who could not endure this last disaster.