As I slowly observe every detail of my apparent life.
As my lips grow apart, realising that frankly.. I’m not living my own life.
As depression sinks in..
Thoughts fill my head and I wonder..
Will I ever find peace in a world with such cruelty?
Will I ever find peace when a black child can’t seek help?
I drift away away abit and wonder:: who ever said black kids were strong?
I mean why are we supposed to bare the load our parents couldn’t?
Why are we supposed to be parenting while our elders are instructing?
Why are we parents to the siblings we never gave birth to?
We live our lives with a manual
With given precautions –
Expectations so high
Even mistakes with rectifications can’t make up for them.
We wake up every morning – our days planned but sadly..
..sadly nothing of our own is included.
If there is this how things are supposed to be?