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Each family has a legacy
of tales to unfold.
We only pass this way one time,
the stories must be told.
Reminisces and anecdotes,
are laid out on the table.
We clean them up, polish them,
embellish where we're able.
Skeletons in closets
will remain a mystery.
When memories are too painful,
we rewrite history.
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Poetry: My painful past
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