Horse Named Pride
I rode high up in the saddle,
on a prancing horse known as Pride.
Outside beaming with confidence,
but empty and shaken inside.
An old wise man once told me,
it was a long time ago.
You have to walk a dusty trail,
before you're white as snow.
Waded out in the muddy waters,
I got down deep to save my soul.
Left my high horse in the pasture,
leaving Pride has made me whole.
Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2021
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