Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Lost Shepherd

I'm not one to remain numb like a sheered sheep that's waiting for the sun. A greedy shepherd makes obvious his crooked ways so he remains dumb. Time can't heal that wound until the season turns to where the shivering animal regains its wool. I call it foot and the diseased mouth would be quick to bring some scissors again during winter but he's the fool. Following only the scent that digs pockets thus forcibly making an animal lose its jacket while ignorant to the parable of a golden goose. The sheep still follow but the shepherd dies as the brightness of the day make it difficult for even his clients to remain just or cool. Demand is cruel and their souls need fuel so they crawl on all fours as a testament of their desperate moves. Their ass is showing and to the West its blowing polluting free air with toxic fumes that when the moon rises, they all turn mules. The sheep do follow, not each other, but the shit they do swallow and leave behind is proof that the shepherd and sheep share a common thread that's commonly used ~ Hair like Wool.

"Eat, I'm Green"

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