Sheep

Sheep

Oh, the prizes seem so grand,
As they sit far away
The cheese, the bait, the marketing plan,
We look, we see, we chase

Somehow it seems we are unique,
Conforming with the flock
A glamour giving cloak it looks,
In truth, a dirty smock

Happy- too all others seem,
With expensive-cheap
Looking at high dusty pile,
Wonder, why not practice meek?

A frustration circle, moving round,
Pacing vainly, like a clown
Tripping, flipping, flopping, crying,
Having less feels worse than dying

Watching digi-culture screen,
Taking cued instruction
Mistake, most think they are unique,
Mass copy reproduction

Some realize and try to fix,
But most they go too far
And take the shame but opposite,
And toss the cookie jar

As the heart remains the same,
Astray lit chars ignite
Restarting flames of keeping up,
Tossed jar is now replaced

Like a dog to whistle call,
Sensing, drooling, now the fall
Cry and cry - it just not fair,
Pockets drained - negative air