Poetry: I am the Sheepdog!

Special thanks to BW for sending this poem in. Pretty cool! – Rourke


I am not the wolf, nor am I the sheep.

I am both and yet I am neither.

I am hated by the sheep, for I do not look nor think like them.

I am hated by the wolf, because I know how and why they think like they do.

I am out cast from the sheep, and I hate and love that at the same time.

I am thankful I am outcast from the wolf, the source for evil.


I have always watched over the flock of sheep, it is in my DNA.

I have always resisted the wolf, again, It is in my DNA.

I have both of their strengths, and neither’s weaknesses.


The sheep are afraid, weak, forever dependent on those stronger than they are.

This dependency allows them to be conquered and dominated, easily.


The wolf is a coward outside of his pack, he is weak when he is alone.

The wolf preys upon the weak and defenseless. He conquers and dominates, easily.


I am not afraid. I am strong, and never depend upon anyone, for anything, outside my family.

This absence of dependency keeps me from being conquered and dominated.


I need no pack. I am alone strong.

But in all this strength, I never conquer or dominate the sheep. Only the wolf do I dominate and conquer.

The wolf fear me. And rightly so, I take no prisoner. I expect and give no quarter.


And in all this, I still watch over the sheep. Watching for the wolf.

Hated, until the coming of the wolf.


I accept this fate. It is in my DNA. It is that I am, not who I am, that makes me what I am.

I also accept that as a fact, it is not a question of if I die. No not at all. And gladly.

It begs more questions than that.

How many go before me? The honorable manner of my passing?

Have I remained true to what I know?


I am the Sheepdog!



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14 thoughts on “Poetry: I am the Sheepdog!”

  1. Who wrote this? This is I! I’ve always been a watcher and have considered myself the protector of my Sheppard’s and my flock at church. My real name is even proper for the position. It’s as if these words were taken from my own mind. Thank you for posting this poem.

    • I do not know the author, but I find this an interesting interpretation. The origin of the sheepdog goes back to the struggle of questioning one’s religious faith, and realizing that you are no longer part of the flock. Those who hit that crossroad become aware that there are those who prey on the flock, and there are those who feel compelled to protect them… even though they no longer share their beliefs.

  2. The problem with all the sheepdogs in the world is that they, just like the pit bull, are all too often used to hurt the innocent sheep. And they are not only complicit with illegal commands, they are usually unaware of the damage they cause, or think that is the price the sheep must pay for “protection”. So all you career cops take your sheepdog dog books and shove it.

    • Brando –

      No my friend – what you describe is actually a wolf in “sheep’s” clothing. A sheepdog defends and protects. By the way – I know there are a lot of stores of bad law enforcement out there – but there are also plenty of good cops too.


  3. Rourke, thanks for your response.
    Brando, the career field one chooses (ie. law enforcement) does not make one a “Sheep Dog”. A sheep dog will fight to the death to defend even the least of his flock. Sheep dogs come from within one’s charater/heart. It’s the guy that jumps on the grenade to save his men. It’s the homeless guy that knocks you out of the way and takes the hit from the vehicle to save you. I can’t help but wonder if you really read the poem or just scanned it with an already bad taste in your mouth. I pray that some day you will be known as a “Sheep Dog”


  4. I have never read so apt a description of all those who protect our freedom and uphold the law. It is also a great descrption of all of us, who are out here not afraid to stand on oue own to protect not only ourselves but others as needed.

  5. I would like to use some pieces of this in a book I am writing. I’m curious so I can provide attribution for the work since nobody knows from whence it came. Is there nobody aware of its origins?


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