Where Are The Sheep?

Goats flood the field,
waiting for nothing.
You sit cheating me out of happiness,
I receive nothing.

I\'m raw and filled with pain,
Blemishes cover my body,
Almost to claim. No, they stain
What could be beautiful.

The nearest escape only worsens it,
At a menacing pace my mind goes to place I shouldn\'t be,
Dressed in ice, red is the only color I can comprehend.
Let me see! Let me see.