Red River | Teen Ink

Red River

March 8, 2015
By Northlion BRONZE, Plantation, Florida
Northlion BRONZE, Plantation, Florida
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

There was a young sheep who never made a peep;
He lived with his friends at a barn on the end
Of a run-down road right by Red River.

Everyone wondered why his voice never thundered;
He was taunted at school by the kids who were "cool"
But he didn't care; cruelty isn't cool.

He just kept on not talking until one day he was walking
And a butterfly took flight only to alight
Upon that sheep's soft shoulder.

"Hi there," he stated, his voice sounding faded
The butterfly looked at him, face had a giant grin
She looked like she loved the little lamb.

The sheep laughed with the bug, wishing he could give her a hug
So they talked all day as the hours flew away
Until it was dark so the sheep sauntered south.

Every day after that together they sat
He only spoke to her; it made her face burn
And they met many minutes for many months.

It was time she had said, to tell friends like Fred
That the sheep could talk; he was no longer a rock
The sheep protested; people could be penalized because of pertinent problems.

The butterfly was sad; she just wanted her dad
To know her best friend being mute was just pretend
So she flew off and alerted all animals of the alleged events.

The all crowded around like a dogs at the pound
The sheep was scared; he hoped he was spared
Imagine his sheer surprise when so many sheep said “Say, you’re super!”

The sheep was glad but also kind of sad
Even though his friends were cool the butterfly told his school
And betrayal beats out bad feelings by a billion bits.

The butterfly too was sad; she had made her best friend mad
She wanted to make it up to him, but her other friend Jim
Said "He needs to take time to think."

So about a week later, hungry for tots of tater,
The sheep headed for lunch, and was stopped by a bunch
Of friendly foals who fought for friendship with him.

He just wanted one friend that lived at the street's end;
It was the butterfly, without her he wanted to cry;
So he said "Silly me! Sadness, saunter south!"

He set out to find her, and hoped she was kinder
Enough to be friends with him again;
They met with each other, each elated.

After that they were friends, buddies till the end,
And now stories say that those two still play
At a barn on the end of a run-down road right by Red River.



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