Slavery

No one can see the bars and chains
Nor feel the weight of the surrounding enclosures
No one can sense the isolation that is present in me.

Is this what slavery is?
It’s existence “explained away” to some time long ago.
But is this what it feels like?
Some kind of inescapable generational curse?

I was not born into slavery in the traditional sense… but it haunts me.
I walk around seeming to be free… but am I really?

I seem to fit in nowhere on this planet called earth
Constantly fighting to prove my existence
To those who love, who hate, who despise me
But most of all to myself.

Is this what slavery is…
A disconnection from my true heritage?
An implementing of a false hope…
The lie that I am no good?

Is this a brainwashing scheme devised by an unseen foe?
Or is it maybe one of my own design?
No matter how high I get the chains resist ascension.

My peace comes from God and this should be enough.
But sometimes I wonder… not by some fault of the Almighty
But by some fault of my own.

Lessons from the past are learned yet, I still kick myself for the mistakes.
When will I let go?

I see God in my life, and yet my faith sometimes falls by the wayside.
When will I believe?

Is this what slavery is?
An invisible cage for my mind?
Subconsciously chained?
I can feel the verbal lashes.

Is this present slavery unlike the one from the past?
Psychological chains weigh so much more than their physical prototypes.
Beating the flesh does not kill the determined spirit,
But controlling the mind oppresses the body.

Is this what slavery is?
My fitting in at nowhere?
Running from every opposition?
Looking in the mirror and not liking what I see?

I seek God, but not fully – as I should.
I’m afraid to believe in God’s infinite possibilities: His claim on me
Is this what slavery is?
A false view of where I came from and where I am going?

I spent what seems like an eternity not being myself…
Now I decide to be who God created
And the struggle is harder than ever!

Sometimes I wish the world would leave me alone.
Then, in the silence, I’d wish to be bothered.
Forced to live in the world of black and white skin
Instead of a color that blends.

Will the chains be broken?
Can the metal be shattered?
Or is it hopeless…
…No.

I wait, praying, knowing God blesses beyond my imagination.
But why does the pain tend to overshadow the happiness?
The anger tries to extinguish the love?

The future scares me, with it’s multiple possibilities
Yet it is those possibilities that keep me going…
The hope of Christ is why I can’t quit.
Choosing to love in a hate-filled world.

Is this what slavery feels like?
I don’t know – I’m just writing.

From the book: Transition: Breaking Through the Barriers, Pg. 21
Written by Allen Paul Weaver III
Published by: IUniverse June 2006