a simmering anger
where i come from
muted rage
held for generations
forged into some
flawed totem of
stoic resolve
rancor i was
born into offers
none of the thought
or reason a stoic
aspires towards
to have happiness
just a keen
mortal peevishness
hidden under
the rituals
of getting by
unquenchable rage
at getting old
and knowing nothing
of real comfort
i have escaped this
generational hell
i look back at it
after the fact
not in anger but
amazement
wwwww
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