Wool of the Soul

Lonely is the one who only ever follows Cursed is the one who chooses his own path. For neither ever will be truly satisfied. A problem such as this Doesn’t seem to exist for a sheep. Even on a cliff’s edge, A sheep is neither hurt nor dead. Perhaps only weighed down by his own coat. Perhaps that is not only his predicament. But is the case for all those around him. Vision obscured by his own wool. If he cannot see, why should the world around him matter? He is the center of the herd. Never a leader but never last. However, a day will come When time has passed His life will be nearing the end of its rope. He will be old and without hope. And he will wonder why he never just sheared his head. But, he is only a sheep on a cliff’s edge. These problems don’t exist. Sheep don’t have to take risks. They stay in a herd With a shepherd in tow They will never know what lies off the path Or a hundred feet below.