Sometimes

Sometimes

I know that everyone has good days and bad days and in life there are ups and downs.  Sometimes however, the situation seems hopeless and I find myself wondering, if the efforts I undertake to show love to my kinsman are worthwhile or ultimately in vain? I love my black self and I love my black people, but “sometimes,” I need the head nod and look of brotherly love instead of a scowl or a mean mug.  I know in my own heart that we are all Gods children and in many cases God’s people perish for a lack of knowledge.  Not secret knowledge, just practical wisdom: like the fact that there is strength in numbers, or the fact that a house divided against itself cannot stand, and perhaps more poignantly that wolves isolate a sheep from the herd before they make a meal of him.

Mr. Black Man who hates me because I am another black man, I realize there are a lot of factors at play but I can affirm to you with impunity, I am not your fiercest rival or enemy and that if you are hating my guts at first site, before I have done good or bad then someone has taught you to do so.  I know we hardly ever say so but I love you Black man and I get tired, sometimes, but my love for my brother is for all times.