I scroll through all the blind cows slowly chewing on their superstition
They barely look up as I infiltrate their sacred pasture
I make a few bold statements of my non-belief
They softly moo with a gasp at my arrogance
I go in not to be evil but to observe
I am fascinated how they ingest and regurgitate their "truth"
Their calves suckling the utters of milky righteousness
They stand huddled; fearing the farmer on the hill
I leave them in peace standing shoulder to shoulder
in their meadow of fantasy
No comments:
Post a Comment