... I want to go home....


Bleating out loud,
lonely in the cold.
Scared and isolated,
away from the main fold.

Sheep broke a leg,
now unable to leap.
Sheep fell in a hole,
where the wolves sleep.

The shepherds keep,
the gates to the pen shut.
Sheep might be infected,
so sheep sleeps alone in a hut.

Sheep bleats at night,
to the shiny stars, waiting.
Sheep bleeds alone cold,
where the wolves howl, hunting.

When the sheep bleats,
the shepherds toss rocks.
You were a bad sheep,
now stay outside, with the cocks.

You ate from the crumbs,
that fell off the table,
that was not assigned to you,
now sit there and hunger.

Sheep's only joy is the full moon,
Because the stars really shine through.
Sheep has the hope in the lighted night,
that soon the head owner will pull through.

He'll open the gate for sure,
because he said a lost sheep found,
is a great joy.
He'll carry it close at his bosom,
because sheep talks to him alone
in the darkness.

Bleating out loud,
alone in the cold,
sheep is afraid,
time will grow old.

Sheep once broke a leg,
but now it is healing,
but sheep is all bruised,
on the group begging, kneeling.

Auterkeia Nihil

March 2007

Poetry by Autie
Read 1490 times
Written on 2007-03-29 at 09:49

Tags Sheep  Sad  Pain 

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Rob Graber
I would so enjoy hearing you read this in your expressive way!

PS: In stanza 8 you want "bosom."

PPS: So why not go home?