From afar
A grey mass
Huddled together on faded grass
I struggle to find the nucleus
I struggle to find the heart
No matter how long I stare
I cannot find the start
Sheep,
We’re nothing more than sheep
Awaiting the slaughter
Behold the herd
A mindless shape
Standing there with mouths agape
Under cotton masks
Gasping for breath
As the creative mind gets lost in ennui
Urging towards death
The grass withers underfoot
Dying, fading out
Until there’s only dirt
As we sift through the confusion
The fake news and the real
But only seem to swallow
That which feeds the feels
The herd begins with one
And the rest just follows
Aggregating like social feeds
Feeding on anything, everything
Until they start to eat
One another
Alive
Blood on wool
The corpses of cannibals piled high
A tower of endless babble
Reaching to the sky
Do not click follow
Don’t join the herd
Like the many followers
In the cult of the absurd
Don’t swallow the hysteria
Don’t eat the flowering, bud
Don’t partake in propaganda
Do not chew the cud
Andre Labuschagne is a poet, musician and youth minister from Johannesburg.
Andre has been writing poetry for a number of years, but has yet to find a publisher that suits his voice. Growing up in the church and having studied Theology, religious imagery and moral themes are often found in his work although the main theme of his poetry will always be the exploration of the deeper self and our purpose here in the universe.