Thursday, July 16, 2015

We, the herds

One foot behind another,
lefts and rights, in tandem;
Slowly they clump, together.
Marching up the hill and down,
Going round and round.
Inevitably in circles, stranded.
Nudging one’s nose
of each other’s rears;
Followers snooping into followers
And eventually into their hypothetical leaders.
A congregation led by different doctrines,
blindfolded, dipped in a myriad of shades;
Baptized, whitewashed, charcoaled
and a sizeable number: daubed in grey.
With a minority, rainbow smeared
And a majority faking the polychromatic paint;
We, the herds, of HIS pasture;
Mooch in self-righteousness
Snubbing the Shepherd.