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