Photo Credit: Sreejit Poole
I never lived in the black and white, where the spiritual were humble and the bastards wanna fight, where a lullaby to sleep means everything’s all right, where the poor are unlucky and the rich have the right to act as if the world is theirs to exploit as they like.
I never lived in the black and white of accepted or denied, I was always grinding in a dirty mess with the faithless, because they were not trying to succeed but to grow, not to perfect but to expand, not to demand others fall in line, but to grasp a hand at the level it was struggling.
I never cared whether I was white or black, whether I had pennies or paper to stack, whether my nose was broad or my cheeks were slack, the tears I shed freely without holding them back were mine to buffer the pain of a world that always attacked the helpless.
I’d rather be defined by the hearts I touched, the words I mushed knowing they’d never be enough, the spine I straightened by releasing my pride, the fears I let go of when love made me blind.
Inspired by the Weekly Photo Challenge: Monochromatic