Red sky in the morning
and the shepherds are all fawning
Curating combs for the wool
whilst the slaughterhouse is built.
We bleat in high hopes
for the avarice to abate
and so, at a comb-stroke
we cultivate our hate. -
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Red sky in the morning
and the shepherds are all fawning
Curating combs for the wool
whilst the slaughterhouse is built.
We bleat in high hopes
for the avarice to abate
and so, at a comb-stroke
we cultivate our hate. -
Request permission to use this poem