In the Middle

In my imagination there are two crowds. One is shouting out to me to follow them, be with them, and deliver their voice. The other sits quietly, knowing that my heart is already with them, allowing me the opportunity to compromise what I believe in order to grace the hypocrites. They do not beckon, but watch as I struggle to let go of the arms that hold me, so tightly, desperately demanding my compliance. They wait, knowing that my decision has already been made and until the other crowd quiets, which it never will, or my heart cannot bear to carry the weight of appeasement any longer, I will continue to heed the cry of the crowd that screams for my membership.