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Black Sheep

Your trajectory is abject failure I see your looming demise
Famous last words the old man had prophesied
He had mocked me with his swan song
I was forever determined to prove him wrong
Called his teenage son a disappointment
Cut me out of his last will and testament
When he died I didn’t weep
I was glad to be considered the Black Sheep

Looking back I have no regrets
My God ain’t failed me yet
I thrive with the infamy of being an outcast
The rebel without a cause I’ll have the last laugh
Determined that only what I sow I’ll eat
I never minded being the Black Sheep.

Categories: Blog Post faith mental health mindset personal sacrifice poetry priorities

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I am a freelance writer living in West Palm Beach. I observe and write about nearly everything and everyone I encounter. I have learnt that if I look at the world carefully, and long enough, I see a reflection of myself in everything. After all, we are what we put into the world.

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