C’est La Vie

And in the 9th month,
On the 9th day,
A child came forth,
And all were gay,
And they named him after his grandfather,
For he was the family legacy.

The boy grew quickly,
The boy grew strong,
The boy, never sickly,
The boy grew tall,
And they accepted him,
For he was the family legacy.

The boy, no longer a child,
The boy quite wild,
Eager to learn the ways of men,
Struggled to kill a lion in its den,
And they initiated him,
For he was the family legacy.

The boy, now a man,
Needed to get his own life,
Initiated a cunning plan,
To get himself a wife,
And they helped him,
For he was the family legacy.

The man changed,
His fears uncaged,
Wife beater, drunkardly,
His ways, dastardly,
And they excused him,
For he was the family legacy.

The man now dead,
Lived almost a full life,
They say it was in his bread,
The poison made by the wife,
And they mourned him,
For he was to be the family legacy.

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