Sheep Poem by Malory Joyce

Blood and flesh beneath their white innocence,
a white gentle coat of snow;
yet for every cover lay's a ground,
but they follow.

Their intelligence is hidden behind their easiness,
they go-with-the-flow;
their need suffocates their self control,
and they are hollow.

Stepping, stepping, behind blind eyes;
too loud, just too loud for their mind to for once think so,
falling, falling, no longer their flesh touches the world,
and off the cliff they go.