The sheepskin gloves


Another poem from the Community Storyboard

The Community Storyboard

Sleek and thin. Glossy and tan.
But once you were white and wooly and warm.
On long black legs, full of life, you ran.

Young and spry, your chocolaty eyes so full of devotion,
Across the meadows and into the valley deep.
A playful bleat for every emotion.

But then you grew old.
You were no longer a lamb; no longer could you dance and jump.
And so came the day you were sold.

The day came for you to die.
Now you’re just a pair of sheepskin gloves.
I never even got to say goodbye.

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