The black sheep, the dark horses
Drag themselves from paddocks of sleep
From the stable worlds they have spun
Leaving books and papers, and pleasurable pursuits

The black sheep, the dark horses
Reining in an impulse
To shirk the sense of duty
An alien family demands

The black sheep, the dark horses
Knowing they are the wrong animal
In these strangers’ eyes
At familial banquets and ceremonies they don’t believe in

The black sheep, the dark horses
Reading their own reflections in glazed looks
Unseen in their darkness
Plotting their escapes.

© Deb Matthews-Zott