Anchored, tethered, a relic of the past.
I seek desperately to make my final assessment
of My Inheritance.
Who will decide my self?
Me, or the lingering atavism?
The vulnerabilities of the collective lie latent within me–
They tip-toe to the surface.
Ready to ensnare: me, my children, and theirs.
I look back to my benefactors with resentment
Yet I make my own apologies in advance of my own heirs
Tortured by the power of parents.
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