Belong, to what?

Do you belong to anything,
Do you belong to anyone,
Are you proud of your territory,
Does your affiliation bring comfort to you,
Are there many who do not belong to you,

Ever thought of your displeasure as opinion and mine as intolerance,
Ever said that I don't belong to you because of my belief,
Ever felt that my welfare does not matter to you because of our boundaries,
Ever realized that your exhibition of pride scares my neighbor's son,
Ever acted on your loyalty to show me as disloyal,

Together, through all times,
We have been living in two worlds,
You in mine and I in yours,
Just to see what we think of each other,
To plot and prove our identities.

Transitive Impressions

When I was a kid, he lived above the clouds,
He answered my prayers, only If I ate my vegetables,
He punished me for skipping my home works,
He would send his friends if I didn't brush my teeth.

Within a couple of years, my moral science teacher let him free,
he started living everywhere, he started knowing everything,
he no longer waited for my prayers or confessions,
He also grew powerful, he could grant me good scores.

A few more years passed, and he started assuming colors,
He acted differently for each friend of mine,
He gave different rule books to each one,
To each he said that following those rules is important.

A few years later, he made expert rule readers,
Many said the same rule and meant different things,
A few said that all rule books have same rules,
Some said that it is not he but a she,
A few insisted that there are many out there,
and some doubted if anyone's out there.

The strength in shoulders increased with the youth,
that person beyond, evolved with me,
he became my friend,
He was powerful and yet not frightening,
He was not judging my actions,
he was just a companion

As youth flowered into maturity,
he shirked off his powerful form,
He transformed into a kid in my backyard,
playing all the time,
He seemed to have forgotten all his job,
of watching me and rewarding me,
But, I enjoyed seeing him running to catch a squirrel

A few more decades and we both will finish our duties together,
Enjoying and appreciating each other's presence,
In different capacities,
with different responsibilities,
Interluded with moments of awareness,
of existence of only one.

The Race

Falling for impressive falses
and gaining false impressions,
Lacking the love of discipline
and unable to imbibe the discipline of love,

Forgetful but unforgiving at the same time
and unmindful of its own reluctance to change,
The mind moves on to conquer the shadows of a trophy,
completely aware that it is a race to the unwritten finish line.