Steps in broken glass
With shoeless feet,
Not knowing where
To step.
Keeping time in the number of screaming matches, and the ticking of the time bombs till the next one,
You laugh when we challenge you, like you what you did isn’t wrong, and allowed to sow the seeds of another’s life’s up and downs like the pine feathers in
the wind,
Yet are not allowed to view your own field sown by another,
Only you are allowed this action.
You ask us to speak, and when we do, we are silenced by roars when what we say angers you,
When you so willingly asked us to speak.
And we did, without fail.
And we are called Liars.
And the guilt, trying to turn what we say evil, when all we speak is the truth,
The Truth you don’t want to hear.
We walk among broken glass with shoeless feet, in a mine field, wary of the next storm, filled with lightning and debris, poison water and foul voices, anger, not knowing, not seeing, not knowing the signs of the coming storm. Uncertainty.
We walk amongst the broke glass, not knowing where not to step.