The Sheep

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The sheep

The sheep are asleep

Their breathing is deep

Into their pen the wolves will all creep

They shake and they shiver

From crown down to liver

As they pull ammunition out of their quiver

Their aim is held high

Their shots go down low

And some poor sheep expires with each blow

The fluff is no armor

And they have no valor

The sheep are asleep

But they shiver like cowards

The cable is shouting

The internet pouting

The circuits of information are rerouting

The sheep are asleep

The poor sleeping sheep

Contentedly snoring while all the wolves creep

And among the sheep

They penetrate deep

The wolves are not ever

Seen while asleep

Asleep like the sheep

The frightened old sheep

The path that they've chosen

Keeps faculties frozen

And means that they never have to be arosin'

They're sheep



copyright (C) 2012 christopher w neal all rights reserved

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