These horses have never been brushed. They've never had their hooves picked, or the knots combed out of their manes, and they don't know what a halter is, or how a metal bit feels in their mouth.
These horses have never felt the tap of a crop or the sound of a cluck for encouragement or a loving pat on the neck from some young girl who only cares about horses. They've never tasted an apple. They've never been kissed on the velvet muzzle they all possess. They will never know just how beautiful they are and what they mean to so many people. Just because they aren't owned by someone, just because they don't have a stall with cushy straw to lay down on, and just because they will never hear their name being called, doesn't mean their happiness is diminished.
Wild horses are mighty impressive, powerful and enduring. I see some who are timid, some who are bossy, but all of them have strength and all of them show their sweet side. Every last one of them has a spirit that cannot and will not be broken.
These horses run wild and they are a symbol of freedom.