Minefield Poem by Faith Wood

This house isn't a home,
it's a minefield
One false move and we'll all explode
A thousand pieces of confetti dancing through the air
landing in every direction
with just a touch of grace
And we fall,
gleaming with the false security of our pearly whites
Naturally, it seems just right
The humility of our genes-
they sing in unity,
as if this bond is unbreakable
Though we continue to shatter each other's ears
by walking through this field of mines