Wolves Sheep and a Watchdog

We are certainly living in difficult times. But poetry will cope with it I am sure. Wolves, sheep and a watchdog By Stanley Russell Harris The new mad author The sheep are bleating. They wander here and there. They have nowhere to go. Did I not tell you so? The safety of his flock. Is the watchdog’s first indent. Yet still the sheep are still bleating. Seems they won’t relent. Thousands of them are bleating. Millions well they are not. As they know the bad wolves. Might soon kill or maim a lot. Remember, there are lots of wolves. No one knows who they all are. We name them all as terrorists! Do you know who they are? Neither does the watchdog yet! So see what he can do. Initially he will surround his flock safely. To stop the wolves, what would you do?