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“Look around you!”
Says Pensive Me.
“Are we gonna end
Our life in  this hood?”

The thought swallows me up,
Spits me into confusion.
Common sense scattered
Across a filthy one-room apartment.

I look into the eyes
Of my diabetic mother.
I see myself in there;
The hope she conceived.

Our dreams are entwined,
Gives weight to the struggle.
She looks at me,
Imparting confidence and stupidity.

Now stupid enough to believe,
I arrange an escape velocity.
With a mossel of confidence,
I roll up my dirty sleeves.

I trade in confidence for faith;
They call it Celestial Currency.
The bad investment that
Sidelined me from purpose.

Collective bondage,
Detrimental emotional benefit.
“Why build a house
When there is a flood coming?”

It felt gratuitous at some point,
Thank God!
I then reset my understanding.
Went back to the basics.

The dream lives!

PS: I grew up in a neighborhood where almost nobody ever gets to make anything of himself in life. There are numerous challenges that affect children growing up there including a lack of something/someone to look up to. As is the case with most developing countries, for the most part, struggles have some superstitious interpretations. Where I come from, it is not uncommon to have poverty consistent in a family for generation upon generation and this is interpreted to be a “generational curse” and is said to have some spiritual significance. Instead of taking logical steps to offset such recurrences by say working hard in school, people usually consult ‘prophets’ or mediums in the hope of being relieved or delivered. In other words, people usually just pray and do nothing else. This is because most people in my country strongly believe that prayer changes things. I don’t necessarily disagree with this, of course, but I believe that faith or belief should be accompanied by expedient steps. To quote the words of Ravi Zacharias, “The challenge is as much to bring thinkers to believe and it is to bring believers to think.”


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