That One Sheep

Grass growing tall

Flowers trampled down

Fluffy white fog follows the direction of the tallest grass.

But trailing behind,

Almost hidden in darkness of nature

Runs a black sheep

Trying to become one with the majority.

Every attempt to catch up,

He lacks and is left behind.

Kicked, pushed, abandoned, and ignored

He bounces like a cloud of walking worry,

The definition of segregation.

“That one sheep stands out like a sore thumb” a woman says,

An ignorant tourist spills to another man beside her,

A woman looking through the eyes of the white sheep.

“So do you.” I say