noisy lambs

hustle into the bus like lambs
out of confinement
sent packing, in search for
infamous greens. lustre and articulate
engine roaring
wolves covetous for
unsung flavours and flaunted sequins.
fresh on the hides
though undeserving and ill equipped to defend.
engine blazing
trepidation powering
muscled legs
…..yet never go anywhere.
rooted instead, limbs fusing into
the dirt like weeds given an
overflow of life’s energy.
inability to distinguish personal thought
from the incessant baa baa-ing
the panic which drives-
are they sent away yet?
of course not, set
muttering ambiguously so that
the wolves
cannot
reach
and disfigure our
freshly combed wool
our neatly painted faces
our tuned up voices
humming soft melodies
for lovers to follow

Instead-
Just stay silent,
and hope to be led to quieter pastures.