Not a Hero

Sometimes I wish there
Is a god above. For I want
To outsource my problems,
My life. I am fed of living
Myself. I want to be told
What I should do.
My teacher taught me once,
In a Psalm, I am not dumb
Driven Cattle. I had to be
A Hero in strife. And I now
Wonder if I misplaced somewhere
In this mad rush to be a hero,
My love for pastures.
For I am cattle.
Not everyone is hero.
It is the flesh of the cattle
Countless, unnamed that fuel
The world. It is our blankness,
Our dullness that contrasts
The shine. If I seek to
Wander and graze
And sustain and stagnate.
Would it be too bad?

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