Wrangling sheep

I find
comfort in the filth,
Within the sheep’s den
And the hot, and
smelly
Compost.
Earth’s natural scent.

The best things in life
Aren’t a
sterilized clean.

Manufactured,
soul-less objects
only bring a sense of loneliness,
Brought to you
from the impatient mind
Of the corporation.

Building with
Patience,
And without profit in
Mind,
Is liberation.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s