Broken Glass 

By Aus-10 Clayton

I was raised

by a mom,

an “I am woman, hear me roar” mom,

a road trip takin’,

no belly achin’,

time for work and time for playin’,

mommy.

By a dad,

a “mow the lawn at the butt crack of dawn” dad,

a “Go to college and get some knowledge,”

Sunday chicken so finger lickin’,

good daddy.

By the music,

head crankin’ no mercy takin’,

make the Bible Belt nation start shakin’,

broken bones 

music.

Off tuning, kinda loony,

“If you don’t play this next song right, I’m gonna slug ya’ in the jaw,”

this song sucks,

the frickin’ amp just blew,

broken bones,

band mates.

 The aerosol can dueling,

which graffiti team is ruling?

canvas assassinating,

slow and gentle brush stroke madness,

artists.

Heart cuttin’ ,

diamond trumpin’,

go alone,

order it up,

spades and euchre partners.

I was raised by the loaded gun of life and culture.

I’ve lived life with a bang.

I was play doh and THEY molded me.

I was bad and THEY scolded me.

I thank you

And more importantly … THEM.