Like Sheep to the Slaughter

Look at the little voters all in a row

Lemmings about to jump off the cliff

Not for principles, as they would claim,

But for a single man that they say

Is their Messiah

* * *

They are a flock led by a shepherd

From the shears straight to the slaughter

The butcher’s block in clear view

And yet none of them the wiser

* * *

They are little pigs building houses of straw

At the wolf’s direction

Then blaming each other

When he blows it all down on top of them

* * *

Perhaps this time they will make a change

Walk away from the cliff’s edge

Turn the knife on the shepherd

Build brick houses impenetrable to the wolf’s wind

See the light and finally realize

This is not the Second Coming