Sometimes I feel
like I'm standing in a pile
of glass and stones,
and ashes of bridges
burnt to a crisp.
A pile of a family home
that
could be,
should be,
glistening in the dry desert air
as if it were a diamond
formed from love and compassion.
This endless loop of family feuds,
turmoil and strife,
lands us nowhere but to continue the status quo.
You say I'll learn,
and maybe you're right,
but I'd rather try to
rebuild bridges
than keep this house
a shattered mess.
Stones previously thrown,
can make a path
over hot desert sand,
and glass can be repaired,
our house can be rebuilt
and our family reunited.