We were children once, 9, 10, 11, and the family story goes:
boxing gloves were strapped on us, my male cousins and I
by our parents and I beat the crap out of all of them.
As I grew up, I became a pacifist, I abhor violence,
would never strike another; my cousins joined the military.
They love their guns. They love action movies where the good
guys shoot up the bad guys. They love violent sports.
Maybe children grow up to be what defeats them or maybe
they grow up to be something other than what is expected.
Who knows, “we were all meant for something”
and maybe that something can change.