Where there's a will
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Poem:		41971
On a cold windy night in late April, in a dimly lit barn on the hill Just a few minutes past midnight, Was born a little bay colt with a will. His birth came 3 weeks too early With broken ribs and lungs fluid-filled and weak. When the vet saw him the next morning, His prognosis, “We'll just have to wait; we'll see.” He was first called Midnight for the time of his birth, But that was quickly shortened to Night. It was then thought that Sir Knight was more appropriate, For this colt faced one heck of a fight. The next 6 months were a struggle Through which Sir Knight gallantly battled on. Illness after illness, endless antibiotics and stays with the vet, His great will to live carried him on. Two years later he answers the brass bugle's call to the track, This young Thoroughbred beautiful and strong. Here he comes thundering out of the final turn at the head of the pack Courageously leading them home. A lesson to learn from Sir Knight? Where there's a will, there's a way. Don't ever give up or say, "I can't," No matter what others might say.
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