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Elkhan Asgarov Aug 2018
Little shepherd, little shepherd,
Where's  your flock, where's  your herd?
Have you lost them in the fog?
Where's, shepherd, your watchful dog?
- Up there far, faaar away,
On that lane where horses neigh.
Keep on walking a little more,
Take no notice of a bear's roar.
Do not rush now, take it slow,
Before you reach the meadow.
You will see a stocky dog,
That guards my grazing flock.
To a little shepherd boy from Oghuz region of Azerbaijan
Tanay Sengupta Jul 2018
Rain on me,
For I have been longing to be free.
Lost in my world, needlessly.

Rain on me,
For I am too tired and I need sleep.
This world is a herd and I cannot be its sheep.

Rain on me,
And show me the way.
This place is empty and I cannot stay.

Rain on me,
It has been too long.
I am sick and tired of pretending to be strong.

Rain on me,
I want to see the lightning pierce the sky.
As the thunder roars and the clouds fly.

Rain on me,
Let the winds take my mind to another land.
No one needs to know and no one needs to understand.







Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
I came up with this while I was watching the rain from my window, a few days back. I hope you like it.
a man
was panther
only seamier
and familiar
allure there
his rhythm
but his
tail was
claw that
his meter
tore an
ambulance only
his soul
found while
straw was
scent vying
for more
A scent that has afield here
The world turns on a Shepard’s staff.
He, of whom the Shepard is, is a guide through the treachery and trickiness of the thick weeds.

The foothills have been passed and the plains of this earth is now the marked destination to rest. We eat there. Beware
the wolves

The sheep have been calm this journey, and it’s lax for the collie, our animal ally.
He is prepared at a beckoning and that is all that is required for herds safety. He comes and goes throughout the brush to scout and prepare reconnaissance. Again, a ally.

The sun moves slowly and eventually rests past the horizon. Twilight and on a clear night, spreckels of stardust show their face over the herd and friendlies. The wolves do not bother the fire tonight.

We rest with a relative ease.
We wake and begin the day.
Pedestal talk from sheep
Shreekant Dhuri Apr 2016
'Tis a tale, a sorry tale
Of a man, never took the leap
Of a man, free yet caged
A lion amongst the sheep.

A man of great ability,
Of unrealized potential
Confined and clipped by limits
The herd had deemed essential.

A man, a brilliant man,
Stripped of glory and his claws.
Left forlorn and wounded
By the sheep and their laws.

A man, a greater man
Led by the lesser to believe
He owed them much and more
And everything, without reprieve.

A man, a most herculean man
Could have the world, his to keep.
Alas had he only remembered
He was a lion, not a sheep.
The poem isn't just for prodigies rather it's for everyone - all of us, as individuals, possess the potential to do something truly extraordinary; to achieve it we must not fall prey to mob mentality.
Diangelo Tyler Feb 2018
Small voices can stand tall
When planted in your heart
The whispers can begin to
               GROW
And turn it into a spark that
              IGNITES
          YOUR PASSION
And amplifies your words
So they are never overshadowed
And they are always
                  HERD
Poetic T Dec 2016
Normal is over rated,
              that's walking with the herd....

I'm no sheep of woolly needs
             I walk a field of individuality...

I feed on truth on the evidence that feeds knowledge,
              I'll never be a sheep that follows a herd....
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