Out of Step

A beautiful black lamb,
Lies down in green pastures,
Away from the rest of the flock,
She is Out of Step.

Though the fleece is clouded,
Her soul is white as snow,
She is not one of the brooding gaggle,
My cup runneth over.

Lamb turns to lion,
Lion turns to lamb,
In the end,
They're really all the same.
Taylor Schiefer