I am a full grown sheep

I am a full grown sheep
tethered to a post
for I’ve known to be lost
even inside a pen.

I chew my own hide
that my body is bare
and no wool to be had.
I am of no use to myself
or to those around.

I was tended kindly
with all love they could muster
all comforts of the world
and much much more
yet I can’t pay them heed
all I can think
is to escape the pen.

Am I the proverbial black sheep?

Now there is talk of
tying me to a tigress
though some call it ewe
they say its for my own good
and that’s how the world goes round

If not how will there ever be wool?