this world shatters our protected childhood

like a wine glass

faces, I remember to be sweet

are human, after all

adults know to be kind to children

and when they’re not kind

something is wrong

When you are a child, people are patient

they don’t expect you

to know

I didn’t realize people are so selfish

they get themselves drunk

so they don’t have to remember

all of the horrible things they said

old ladies, drinking wine

gossiping about their anger

While old men, find better things to do

with their sunset

they are just as bad

but somehow, there is something sick about the woman

who isn’t sweet anymore, and no longer tries to be

She has lost her grace

through years of abuse

her words

hurt others—

she doesn’t care

Women could have

power over men

because he wants respect

and this is denied

again and again.

Stains mark the dining table,

where he was murdered with talk

blood

drips

onto the floor

the wine glasses are broken

Men, don’t sit-down,

anymore.