http://www.armchairgeneral.com/the-sheepdogs.htm
is a poem that makes a simple, direct point about
how the world is divided into sheep, wolves, and
sheepdogs.  It is short enough to quote in its entirety:

         The Sheepdogs

Most humans truly are like sheep
Wanting nothing more than peace to keep
To graze, grow fat and raise their young,
Sweet taste of clover on the tongue. 

Their lives serene upon Life's farm, 
They sense no threat nor fear no harm. 
On verdant meadows, they forage free 
With naught to fear, with naught to flee. 

They pay their sheepdogs little heed
For there is no threat; there is no need. 
To the flock, sheepdogs are mysteries, 
Roaming watchful round the peripheries. 

These fang-toothed creatures bark, they roar 
With the fetid reek of the carnivore, 
Too like the wolf of legends told, 
To be amongst our docile fold. 

Who needs sheepdogs? What good are they? 
They have no use, not in this day. 
Lock them away, out of our sight 
We have no need of their fierce might. 

But sudden in their midst a beast 
Has come to kill, has come to feast.
The wolves attack; they give no warning 
Upon that calm September morning.

They slash and kill with frenzied glee 
Their passive helpless enemy 
Who had no clue the wolves were there 
Far roaming from their Eastern lair. 

Then from the carnage, from the rout, 
Comes the cry, "Turn the sheepdogs out!" 
Thus is our nature but too our plight 
To keep our dogs on leashes tight 

And live a life of illusive bliss 
Hearing not the beast, his growl, his hiss. 
Until he has us by the throat, 
We pay no heed; we take no note. 

Not until he strikes us at our core 
Will we unleash the Dogs of War 
Only having felt the wolf pack's wrath 
Do we loose the sheepdogs on its path. 

And the wolves will learn what we've shown before; 
We love our sheep, we Dogs of War. 

                                   Russ Vaughn


Let's compare this poem with "The Tay Bridge Disaster":
http://www.mcgonagall-online.org.uk/poems/pgdisaster.htm

One peculiar, coincidental similarity is that in the third-last
line of each poem there is a grammar anomaly.
In "The Sheepdogs", what is the antecedent of "its" in "its path"?
And in "The Tay Bridge Disaster", the third-last line reads
"At least many sensible men confesses".  Is the plural noun
"men" meant to go with the singular verb "confesses"?

In my opinion, "Tay" is the lesser poem, for a number of reasons.
For example, the poet refers to himself, and many of his lines are 
"fillers" that don't add much to the meaning.

But poetry connoisseurs may dislike both poems for the
same reason:  a sing-songy rhythm that keeps them out of
the realm of proper poetry.  They are not real poems,
poeticists may argue, but lyrics.  And their simple, direct 
wording and repetitive beat make them exemplars of hip-hop.
They are doggerel, or, to use a more modern term, rap music.

-- Mark Spahn  (West Seneca, NY)




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