She insists on her own way; having to have control of all situations.
Actually stole me from my mother, and insisted on raising me her way.
I disengaged from her diabolical controlling web twenty years ago.
Other family members call to try and tangle me back into the fray.
They are annoyed by her insistence, persistence, and lack of listening
Fearful of leaving, or annoying her in any way. They do not argue.
I change the subject, not interested in being a part of this family game.
Initially, she hunted me, but has given up, realizing there is easier prey.
Cousins call to complain. I listen, offering no advice, totally not caring.
I am free of the memory of those days, until their blathering phone call.
Tucking these memories into the most unimportant corner of my mind
Free from this opinionated matriarch; a release that bodes me well.
Began growing myself as myself
the minute I escaped her powerful web.
I think she would be proud of me, but am not willing to find out.
Still fearful of my opinionated, all-powerful spider of a grandmother.
I shall not be complete, nor will I become content.
I will only be complete at the end of my life,
Which had been given to me to live along with the strife.
Standing before and being with God to account for all of my sins.
Never shall I be content from the strife in life is a stake,
Nor will I be satisfied with the drudge we need to take.
I don't ever want to be perfect in any kind of way.
But in this world, we live for God's sake,
It's too overbearing with the sin you're tempted to take.
I'm trying to live the best way that I should win,
Even with tempting with its overbearing sins.
Taking the roads that are pleasing to you,
At least finding out who you are,
And for what you must do?
I undoubtedly cannot be the perfect buoyance
Because it too would be the place of arrogance.
So everyone tries to be all that they can be, indeed.
Speaking of its perfection,
I say it exists only in Christ Jesus, our King.
The weeds are squeezing around the flower beds in every corner of the yard.
They seem to grow a foot or two each night, smothering dainty flowers,
Sitting on them, squelching them, happily growing, strangling them.
Similar to the ways inconsiderate controlling people smother others,
Overgrown bullies who squeeze their victims, killing without conscience.
I race out there with clippers, an axe, leather gloves and a hoe. Chopping away.
Wishing as I chop that I could eliminate overbearing bullies in a similar way.
OVERBEARING
When you walk up upon two people talking
And they shun you turn away start walking
Cold non endearing
Never ending so not caring
Overbearing
Wait your turn don't interrupt the corrupt
And those problems bag them up
Place those worries in a locked closet
Cold non endearing, never ending so not caring
Overbearing
Distrubuting the prviacy of others
Does it matter abundant covers
Don't be abrasin or impatient
This is a new revelation
Overbearing
It's not that your not important
Cold non endearing
Never ending so not caring
So just wait for your space
And when your late the groups already started
Don't be broken hearted
You enter in but all eyes on you
Don't resist in your hues or views
Place those worries in a locked closet
Cold non endearing, never ending so not caring
Overbearing
3/3/10
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©
The big tree casts a giant shadow
Over the little saplings surrounding him
Keeping them in thrall long after he is gone
He tied them tight to the past
Squashing their youthful spirit
And forcing them down the same tired path
He took to follow for himself
His tricks are many and branches are big
The saplings need to take a changing course
For their own survival and identity
At every crossing of roads
They must slay the overbearing tree
And disparage his legacy
To live and shine with their own individuality.
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