Belonging.

It’s something we all desire, isn’t it?

We chase it with our eyes tightly sealed.

Our hands reaching out,

We hope that anything will take hold and have us healed.

Cause that’s when we’ll belong!

When we’re finally in our place.

When we’re high up in the ranks,

And no one can call us a disgrace!

Better feared than loved,

With wolves right by our side.

We’d rather be safe hunting others

Than ruin our dear pride.

But for some reason we stay restless.

We feel our hearts being tugged.

“Do I belong here, I wonder?”

Our worries have us drugged.

So we move on from that group,

Leaving wolves with whom we found no bond.

Our hearts decide to take the wheel,

And we’re once again a vagabond.

“So where do I belong?” you ask,

“I can’t find that certain niche,

I feel so out of place

I feel like some ill leech!”

“Drawing the time out of others,

Wherever I should go,

Draining them of themselves,

It makes me feel so low!”

Well when we try to mold ourselves,

To fit some kind of group,

We put on a visage,

That leaves us in a loop

Of chaos and confusion,

Of fear and disarray,

Of dissatisfaction and disappointment,

We know we just can’t stay.

Pretending to be something we’re not

Is exhausting to say the least.

Rather, we should grow in ourselves,

And let God take the leash.

See belonging to me

Isn’t being part of something else.

Belonging to me

Is having peace with yourself.