Who Are Ewe? Poem by Satan Esquire

Do you ever see people as sheep?
Does the wool in their eyes make you weep?
What seems iconoclastic
Is, in fact, quite fantastic
Just as long as you count in your sleep.

But if you wake up, friend, beware!
Bemusement is no fun when laid bare.
What seemed cute in a haze
Will confuse you for days
As the sheer numbers fall from the air.

For the hard truth is sheep cannot fly.
Even worse's that they won't even try.
They'll stand stuck in the mud
Their hocks stained red with blood
As the butcher feeds them mutton pie.

The story is as bad as it seems.
No one transcends, nobody redeems.
All lambs led to the slaughter
Like down-flowing water
And me wond'ring just what a sheep dreams.