The Black Sheep

I am the black sheep,
I am the renegade,
Just waiting for my chance
to rebel.

I follow my own path
And I wait for no-one.
I am a stranger in my own land,
Because I am different.

What place is there for me
In this brave new world
Of spying eyes, electronic skies
and iron rules?

How can I live under
Metal birds that watch every move?
Bringing death to some
And a rotting cage to others.

So the black sheep
Still goes his own way, regardless,
Leaving the flock to go blindly
To its own slaughter.

Luke Eastwood is a horticulturist and writer based in Ireland. Read other articles by Luke, or visit Luke's website.