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THE GENEALOGIST'S LAMENT

 

I started out calmly, tracing my tree,
To find, if I could, the making of me; 
And all that I had was great grandfather's name,
Not knowing his wife or from which he came.

 

 

I chased him across a long line of states,
And came up with pages and pages of dates.
When all put together, it made me forlorn;
I'd proved that poor grandpa had never been born.

 

One day, I was sure the truth I had found,
Determined to turn this whole thing upside down.
I looked up the record of one Uncle John,
But then found the old man was as young as his son.

 

Then, when my hopes were fast growing dim,
I came across records that must have been him.
But the facts I collected made me quite sad,
Dear old great grandpa was never a dad.

 

I think maybe someone is pulling my leg,
I'm not all sure I wasn't hatched from an egg,
After hundreds of dollars I've spent on my tree,
I cannot help but wonder if I'm really me.

author anonymous

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