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-Confucius had his Analects and I have my journal-
"Genetics"
He took only what he needed
Fearfully looking on to the darkness
Running into the night, he fed himself and loved ones
Of stolen goods
He took basketful of bread
And that was all he needed

His son, he knew what his father had to do
And he figured that was the only way to provide
So boldly, he stole what he wanted and divided it amongst his family and companions

The man's grandson, he took as he pleased
He couldn't satisfy that ever unquenched feeling of wealth
And he suffered
And he stole
And he died, wanting more

Some say men like this weren't born to live
And that grandfather should have let his family starve
But he did what was necessary
It was lineage and miscommunication that made now so disgusting






User Comments: [1] [add]
Idiosyncratic Quirk
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Sun Mar 08, 2009 @ 01:54pm
There's a reason that I can't stand this poem. Can't place a finger on it; I just don't like it.


User Comments: [1] [add]
 
 
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