The missing part

When our father left we were alone

Living on this planet with no home

Existential dread became the rage

The dining table made familial stage

Once he was in heaven then came to earth

On Salisbury plain the sheep displayed much mirth

In the field of Parliament Hill we saw

Sheep could safely graze until the war.

Did they have a shepherd, was it Christ?

Now we have no metaphors,no taste.

Now sheep are made machines they do not graze

The battery hens are clockwork in disgrace

Our father haha ba he is not here.

I think I’d rather drown myself in beer

I welcome comments and criticism

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