I be that horse from out that mine

A horse they force into the source of evil down below
It really wants to romp with joy
But down the mines
They do employ
To see the sky to smell each morn
To just be glad
That he was born
Instead trussed up into the earth
Forced to slave for all his worth
Poor old soul he muttered low
In the field I prefer to go
But sadly it’s what I must do
Slave down the mine
Yes folks that’s true.

An instant poem from the Bard Zakoor