On many occasions, when I visit the Island, I see many horses straying on empty fields.
I see their ribs sticking out from the sides of their once very muscular torsos.
Their heads hang down in both despair and an attempt to feed on dry grasses.
These same horses were once champions of the race course. They once carried rich men and galloped to the applause of a sophisticated audience.
They brought medals and trophies to their owners and exciting entertainment to all who gazed upon them.
The stables where they rested and slept were made from the finest and sturdiest wood The hay they fed on were cut from the finest and nutrient dense grasses.
They didn't go to their doctors, their doctors came to them, caring and attending to their health needs.
They even got monthly pedicures and wore shoes on their hooves.
But today, no one seems to remember them or the races they ran, or the medals they won, or the people they helped win bets and made richer.
They are now left under the merciless tropical sun, their gaunt looks protesting to their former owners and perhaps the Creator who gave them to the service of men.
Now they eat food meant for straying sheep and goats.
The one who once won wars on and off the race course, is now carrying last.
This post is not about horses, it's about us.
You were born to run, to gallop, to win.
Don't give up!
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