The future is yours

They lied to us, led us like lost sheep to the brink of an eroding cliff; where we watched sunrises, ate fermented grass and layed on our backs while mesmerised by distant rainbows. They said the future was ours, as if it was a guarantee that when we were tall and handsome, a bowl full of sunshine would be handed to us, filling our days to come with happiness and success. They had done all the work, that is how it seemed to us, we just had to keep up the appearances, emulate them, bring glory to their struggles. If only they had stuck to the theme, instil the same message that brought them hope, longing, strength, vision, perseverance, patient, resilience; ‘the future is yours to make, through work and unity its fruits are yours to take.’
Now that we are full of wool and our bones are draped in fat they look at us, passing judgement; they murmur, ‘sheep are just lazy, all they want to do is eat and sleep.’

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