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?