Finding yourself in-between continents
Can pull your identity different ways.
One side yells at the other which prevents
Us getting together as the shelf frays,
Creating an ever growing divide.
Should it matter that my brother stood still,
Clenching his fist while on the Eastern side,
While I was charmed by the West’s tempting thrill?
We still belong to the same family
Though we are separated by a strait.
Does it change the understanding we can see
When this short distance no longer relates?
Or maybe we can start a new order
That is not subjected to a border.
John Collings 