Forswear the road less travelled.
God bless ewes and rams,
Whose chosen cloven pathways beckon
Chocked full of empty chain store comforts.
No pioneers they, they pull the wool
Over the crossed eyes and dotted T’s
Of rigid non-conformity.
Eschew the cud of conflict.
With sheepish grin and bleating heart
Go with the ebb and the flowchart.
Graze in the peaceful pasture
Of mildly mindful half-existence
Trusting alike in shepherds and crooks,
Stalking the flock and mocking the clock.