We will no longer be
your sheep, shepherded
in silence, flocked in docility,
driven by fear of attack
dogs, our so-called protectors
from wolves hiding in the hills.

You will no longer drive us
where we do not wish to go,
fleece us for your own gain,
lead our precious lambs to be
slaughtered to feed your appetite,
thrown away when you’re sated.

We fear the wolves, but
you frighten us more,
brandishing your cudgel,
shearing us of our comfort,
stripping away our basic protections,
alleging you do so for our health.

You claim your right to lead,
convince the flock that there are wolves
just around the corner waiting
to kill, but you can’t count on us.
When you fall asleep we will escape,
floating one by one over fences, for you
fail to shepherd us to a better life.