To Be the Lone, Good, Black Sheep

Rock a bye baby, rock the boat,

as you, are you, and not their vote,

such bland control, you shake right off,

whilst they continue, the same cough,

that splutters all, repeated err,

belong to that, then you say “urgh!”

As many cluster, the wrong lane,

to be allowed, into the shame,

then you; with both; the time and space,

go and author, single grace,

of which the flock, will always shun,

while they crash, under the sun,

you see them go, one by one,

to be branded, and be spun,

all out of kilter, no names please,

do not question, like the squeeze,

freedom’s you, lost are them,

as you can walk, outside the pen,

pitchforks, torches, sadly held,

in their pathetic group mind meld -

makes the system, rape the self,

decency, is left on shelf,

you fight to rival; busy beep,

to be the lone, good, black sheep!