Sense.

Born decades after,

I could never relate,

to  grey haired wisdom,

yet I argued

I would change my fate.

He’d  kick some sense into me,

she always said.

My father would.

I would fight my brother,

over racing cars,

and ride his bike

and climb his trees

He’d kick some sense into me

she always said.

My brother would.

I laughed too loud,

I talked too much,

I shamed the inner lady

had too much fun.

He’d kick some sense into me

she always said

My man would.

She has been more in fear

than love all her life

as her grandmother

taught her that Sometimes,

Violence was how

men loved.

But…

They kicked some sense into me

She finally said.

The society did.

abuelita_final

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