crossroads and parallel lines

I live on a crossroad,
One beckons me,
It leads to a river, accompanied by olive trees.
I see mountains, forests and beaches
And am enamored by all it encompasses.
But its uneven ground has me stumbling.

The other road also calls to me,
All its glamour and colorful lights,
All my dreams and aspirations belong here.
But although the people here know what I’m saying,
They don’t know what I mean;
And all their buildings make me feel small.

One road smells of a spiced coffee.
I see my father, peeling oranges,
The gesture speaks affection when he can’t.
I see my mother, siblings,
And relatives, some I couldn’t name.
They’re dancing and laughing together.
Everyone is so good to me,
But I don’t think I’m any good.

The other road lets me stand,
So long as I push someone down.
They talk of loving others,
And I feel their tender words,
But sometimes feel they only love themselves.
The other road is too narrow,
And I feel I smell of sand.
So I paint my face in red and white,
And they can just enjoy my juggling.

I love the dresses from one road,
With its bright colours and gold prints.
The other road too,
With their dresses fitted and sultry,
But neither mine.

One road pulls me,
My blood is tied to them.
The other road pulls too,
Their lights are brighter.
And they both pull and pull
And my skin rips.
So I stay at the crossroad,
Where I can wonder both,
Calling either and neither a home.