You once declared me to be the unrepentant Black Sheep

and then tried to laugh with damning justification of my actions,

but all I could hear from your woollen mouth

was the constant bleating of the high and mighty wronged.

The black wool is there as a reminder of the mistakes I have regretfully made,

but you never cared to mention the whiteness of my stomach

compared the nasty deep  smoke stained, barbeque ready,

yellow belly that hides underneath your disgusting grandeur.

The Black Sheep found another flock in which to keep time with,