BREATHE

In a herd of white sheep, you were ostracized

Because of the brown spots you’ve got.

Never did you feel needed.

In fact, no one ever sought for a strand of your wool.

One time, as you rested alone behind the rock,

The serene empty valley awoke you.

Your heart trembled.

Where are they?, you asked.

BAAAAAAAAAH! BAAAAAAAAAAH!

You called for help even if you knew

that no one would hear your mute cries.

You quivered as you realized the confirmation of a doubt—

that nobody really cared

not even your good old guide.

You ran hoping to catch the end of the herd.

And you did

But only with your small eyes.

Too near yet so far, you mumbled.

With envious yearning, you watched from afar

As the heavens condoled

Bringing forth its mighty water archery.

It cleansed everything there was

Of impurities, of fraud.

The brown spots that troubled you

Were nothing but stubborn dirt—

Stubborn but temporary.

You’re as white as snow after all!

You were excited to rejoin your group

But you witnessed an appalling revelation.

The white washed off the coveted sheep

And the smell of asbestos filled the place.

Vindicated? Pointless longing?