Down to the Water I go again
Hoping to wash my sins again
Hoping I’ll finally be spotless
But lo the line is long
The water running low
I receive glares instead of sympathy
I tremble and hide
In the bushes hide
And feel invisible to all
I am not welcome here
The others make that clear
So I slip away silently alone
Why do they scorn me?
Why do they dispel me
Out into the cold and the dark?
I look at my hands
see nothing but red
and the rags I wear are dark
Is it the colors they hate?
The appearance they hate?
No, I saw others darker than I
I don’t belong here
This pond is not mine
My eyes become falls and I’m blind
I hear a soft noise
A calming noise
I look up and see above me a lamb
It’s soft white wool
It’s little felt ears
and eyes that look into mine
It turns its tail
Its little white tail
And clambers up a rocky trail
I follow it slowly
Tired and worn
I have no where else to turn.
Then at the hilltop
I stand on the hilltop
And feel a playful breeze
I look down at a valley
Full of strangers I know
And it is here that I belong