I wish I were not here But where then would I be? For if I were not here Would I still be me? Here is just where I am at It's where I was at When I made the move Regretted now But so it is And though I wished I never had No doubt I’d choose just as bad Because of ego irreducibly – So there you have it Hook, line and sinker No point in pointing Misdemeanour finger At the stinker you think life to be When life is simply what is made of it Despite factors irritatingly sacred Such as the make-up you inherit The behavioural traits you’d gladly decry The genes, the background, the worn-out base That’s as much of your ancestors As your ancestor’s race To know the same themselves What are we but a curious mixture Of things we don’t understand? We’re lucky if we like our lot But ‘oft admit that we’d rather not Be what we seem to be Instead we’d rather embody Quite distinctively other Than what we perceive in father and mother Aunt, uncle and all the rest In the line of oddities that join the links In chart genealogy Wherein that sea of myriad faces That once existed in other times, other places Were grains of that which in due course Made up corporeal nexus of what Filtered through to me Can you fight the genetic imperative? Perhaps If given sufficient incentive And surely there must be many Who have broken through the ranks So let them come forward In glittering array The Wounded Healed Who wear their scars As brazen bright shields Who know the cost To win the field And stand unaccost’d As the army of the glorious free If selfish genes are what endure Let them be selfish for the genetic cure Of inherited misery
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