It’s sometimes good to be the outsider or maybe an insider looking from the outside in, it gives you a clearer view of what everyone else is too caught up in to see…
The bonds that hold one man to the next ought not to stand a chance against the blood that ties a family, but though a part of a twisted whole, I continue to peep in over the wall and watch love become hate, want become greed and people become animals.
I wonder at times, if blood is a good enough excuse to put up with the foul play one can be subjected to, or if it is a good enough reason to place a boundary around a bond that is stronger.
We really do only know in part, for the yoruba adage compliments the Word by saying we only know the ones we love and not the ones who love us.
On my side of the wall, the ties are strong but not of blood, must I state the case on the other end? Yet I fear that I may be repeating a history that I wish wasn’t a part of mine or maybe I’m not fighting hard enough. No I’ve fought long and hard, I hung up my armor for a battle that wasn’t mine to win.
I wish things could be less complex, I wish not to belong but to be loved by those who owe it to me as a right, that must sound selfish but I am human and feeling deprived of something that ought to be yours is torture not worthy of experience.
I look over the wall and long for some things yet pray away the rest but then these things definitely come with a price, the question is if I am willing to pay and if not which then do I honor, blood or not?
It’s either black, white or a wise man’s decision within 58 shades of grey. So I sit on the wall peering over both sides and settle for my place stuck between ties…