The Stallion's Dilemma...

He's natural in his actions, and like stallions, he's war-torn to his core...

Restless in his movements, living up to horsemen's lore. 

His station in the scheme of things, is to feed and fight and baby make. 

And win respect not freely given for the herd's safety's sake.

He's gaunt and worried, yet driven...he's taken from his home. Yet another small pens been given, to trap a spirit that longs to roam. 

Beyond the panel fences which confines his stud-horse pace. 

Someday I'll get home to meet him, and decisions will be made...

A herd of mares to greet him...or the roping pen for trade.

Does he settle under saddle, is he gentle in his way,

Is he drafted to the gelding string or do his family jewels stay...

This poor stud horse is oblivious to what's coming down the pike...

His dilemma having started when a friend pegged him for one I'd like.

So he huffs and blows and hollers, and trumpets to the space.