The Black Sheep

Mary had a little lamb
Who loved its gold stilettos.
So, with those strung around its hoofs
It roamed about the ghettos.

It stood out way too much
When with other sheep it grazed;
Its black fur did not help
Mary thought to herself, dazed.

It stood tall in its atrocity
The act that could lead to slaughter.
Mary couldn’t help but snatch away
The object of vile laughter.

The lamb grew up a little tall,
Its fur lacking density.
One more pebble in Mary’s path,
Bringing it closer to mortality.

Mary sowed on it some fur,
Taught it to blend in.
But the lamb, in its ignorance,
Still stood out with no kins.

Mary’s head wildly spun
The lamb to her was dear;
She locked it away in a stable
Where no death it could fear.

The lamb stayed till it was a sheep
Till it began missing the meadows;
To it they called out, the greens,
It just had to escape the shadows.

The black sheep broke confines
In all its magnificence and glory.
It pushed with all its strength,
Destroying fences of slavery.

To a path of freedom it rode
Its fur burning like coal;
In Mary’s fearful eyes it stared
Reassuring, but a little cold.

The lamb roamed about
Laughing in the face of danger.
And it took along its stilettos,
Cared no more for strangers.

Mary had a black sheep
That indulged in self-acceptance.
Nothing could threaten it now
For it had tasted true independence.