An Outcast

I look around me. Towering above are my "friends" of old, now content among themselves without me. I remember when we used to be equals, when I used to compete with them for the highest and used to shine above them.

Now I am with a herd not my own, whose statures were below mine and whose manes did not shine as bright as mine. But now I am just as tall as they. They have grown while I have not. My mane is dampened with clay so as not to shine at all. I am now one of them, though their hooves will never thud to the same rythm as mine, and my colors will never truly match theirs.

I belong to the older herd, whose time on this earth have made them wiser and higher and made their manes shine brighter. I am one of them, yet I am not as tall as they. I have lost the spark that made me glow and lost the time that would have made me grow. I am not one of them. I am now an outcast.