It’s not your fault, in anger, that she screamed
whenever boredom tempted, “screw the rules”
but break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

Her parenting just followed grandma’s lead,
a single mom with seven in her brood.
It’s not your fault, in anger, that they screamed.

For years, repressed emotions build up steam
and beg release with adolescent moods,
but break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

You raise a family, childhood unhealed,
without the aid of healthy guidance tools;
it’s not your fault, in anger, that you screamed.

Time tempers; quenched with knowledge, habits yield,
are tested through your grandson’s ones and twos;
you’ll break the cycle— count to ten and breathe.

On days so pure they dim your brightest dreams,
recall the short-fused tension of your youth—
it’s not your fault, in anger, that she screamed;
you broke the cycle so this boy can breathe.