Sunday, April 17, 2011

Break

She started with the slate pencil
Before moving on to scales, pens
Cell phones, even a television set
We were always wary of
Upsetting our only child
She ended arguments
By breaking things
And storming off
To her room
Where she shut herself up
And refused to come out even to eat
We did not stand in her way
Let her marry the one she wanted
And fly away for good
As we look at
The two of them waving to us
Through the web cam
I cannot but wonder
What all the one-year-old girl
She is holdng in her arms
And born in that land of opportunities
Would break as she grows up?

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