Adulthood.....The Ghetto

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Exhaustion and mental breakdowns breed on this playground. Be careful how you swing on the rails, for fear you might fall, and break, and then you become wounded, too weak for the slides, too scared to once again, play. Mundane tasks become your accomplice as they cling to you like desperate shadows, incessant, impossible to catch a break. We are eager to walk and cross over the sandbox, but no one tells us that the sand is quick, dragging, it grabs, right there you sink. "Come Jesus Come," by Cece Winans is now always on repeat, for what did the bible teach us...in Him, there's the refuge we seek. In gospel music you've hidden for solace, because for you, it is really how God speaks. That is the best time to listen.

Dodgeball is the game of choice in this hood, in the ghetto of adult life. You swerve and you dock, you jump and you twist but most days you are hit. At times, you rise again but other times you succumb, laying in a comatose state, breathless and crippled under the adulthood weight. The shopping must be done, the kids must be fed, the itinerary should be prepared, the bedsheets must be spread. Then the house should be cleaned, you must upkeep your look, your smile cannot fade, your hair you must braid, and work you must go, and slave throughout the day, only to come back to your home and repeat in vain. Inundation of chores that are heavy like boars, your feet always swollen, your back always sore. We become eager to inherit our parents' troubles, but today we know, they did not exaggerate.

No hugs in this ghetto, just pushing and tripping, more crying, more sighs. A burdensome basket of elusive chains that bind and sever, whisking your spirit, conjuring random emotions and sealing your fate. Whoever sold the idea that this hood was somewhere to long for should have been the one pinned at the stake. Jesus would certainly not mind. This place is intoxicated with uncertainty, highs and lows playing "peek- a- boo", tugging at the trails of your garments, tearing at the seam, exposing weaknesses like art in a gallery, except this ain't art, it's a Boullion of Retakes.

Weariness encapsulates, and at times it feels like God took a break. You wander in vain and try to barrel through but only to grasp that you're caged in, there is really no escape. 

Come, Jesus, Come, the ghetto forsakes! 

Adulthood..............sincerely not recommendable. 


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