Melancholic Goat Poem by Earnest Gatuma

A sheep is a timid being,
Has a life less meaning,
You could kill it and put that as cleansing,
Unlike the goats who are free to roam,
Sheeps can not do absolution,
Born into a suicidal involuntary journey,
Occults have cultured them in rituals handy,
Am a black sheep sadly,
Black and yellow like a bumblebee,
But I will transform to a goat,
That I was promised by the wizard of Oz,
On a condition for a cost,
For there needs some cleansing blood,
From innocence and the 24th brood,
A sheep needs to be slain!
I can not think of any I know but my flock,
I love all dearly therefore it pains more,
But to save myself I shall plot
When grazing on the mountains,
I will push one off the precipice,
Folly from the 24th brood I will entice,
To come and see the pastures in aerial,
When no one is watching he will fall,
Cover it up to the shepherd as suicidal.