Friday, October 26, 2012

D-Day


You married one.
Should have known.
D-bombs dropped
Down through
The generations
On her side:
Grandma, grandpa,
Great-grandma, great-grandpa.

You fathered two daughters,
Your seed in that barren place,
Who each became one.
Will they, in turn, do the same?

So simple to pull the trigger.
Cop-out. Throw in the towel.
So modern.

Tell me, though, why does it feel
Like something so wrong 
Feels so right?

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