I used to be my little brothers translator

 

He was too young

To understand

Or be understood

 

English did not roll from his tongue

The way his quick-witted remarks do now

 

And sometimes I wonder

As he grew

If I had been able to filter what he heard

a little bit longer

If he would still procure verbal self-abuse

It only does so much telling a boy not to listen 
To something he can fully understand