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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

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inheritance


father burns incense
contemplates grandfather's words

in his red silk robe
kneeling by the tiny fire

i hear him mutter
out of respect i step back

in the morning light
i will remember his love

in the cool darkness
i know he is a good man

like my grandfather
whose songs once filled me with joy

when father retires
i will kneel by the small fire
and honor my ancestors
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