I know I'm not a poet, but I want to convey my frustration at family research:
Family research consumed my time
To point at dead people and say they're mine
I've spent two years pursuing this 'art'
And had different rhythms in my heart
I've had times of joy and times of sorrow
For people that I'll never know
And always had a lead to keep me on my feet
For people that I'll never meet.
'What is the point?' is what I'll try answering in my next post :)
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