[ WP ] Under pressure , precious things break .

Under pressure, precious things break 
 Like my favorite Polly Pocket 
 under my brother's boot 
 or the legs of GI Joe 
 in Mom's new blender. 
 So too, shattered my window 
 when his baseball went too high 
 Which meant, of course, his baseball fell 
 to tattered pieces, never whole again. 
 In blackest retribution my barbie met her end 
 which in turn destroyed his PlayStation -- 
 To which I plead the fifth. 
 
 Years later was his car, 
 when I missed the breaks, 
 and took out the garage door, 
 Dad's bike, and almost the cat. 
 My brother started yelling, 
 which I certainly deserved, 
 then he stole my phone, 
 which I definitely did not. 
 Still, it told him why my crying 
 had made me blind that day. 
 And he came home hours later, 
 With chocolate and ice. 
 I ate and sobbed; he iced his hand. 
 Ca n't say I mind that 
 he broke my boyfriend's nose. 
 
 After were those years 
 where he shattered peace of mind 
 to fight a war that was n't his 
 in a place so far from mine. 
 I watched it push and push 
 until he came back home 
 And the man I met again 
 was but a part of who he'd been. 
 That only made it my turn 
 to shatter what he'd made. 
 I took his hand, stayed by his side 
 and tore apart his walls. 
 We'd done our share of breaking 
 under pressure, under time, 
 but I guess that's part of making 
 the most precious things of all.
