Gramps

Your goal is not to become a parent

Your genes won’t benefit, from you

Having children, that can’t reproduce

Being grandparents, is what, you’re trying to do

 

See, your ancestors, you, and your offspring are unique blends

Of lessons learned about avoiding death, you’re a means to an end

A cryptic plan with a purpose, your genes kindly encoded

To send to the future, before it de-entropies, and its meaning is eroded

 

Just imagine all the wonders, they could one day bring

And the joy you get, when you first teach them to sing

Mother nature has guided, and provided all the harmonies

So you can lead them all, in the dance, with nurtury

 

Advance then, wherever it may be

Go forth and multiply your inner enemies

Or they’ll lead you astray

Break your heart and sanity

Forging meaning, amid this futility

 

Some people say, it all makes sense

When they have children, and can see

Which traits made them, uniquely them

And which, were added for free

 

But, childhood is being eroded

Teen suicide figures have exploded

They’re all in the zone, and on a phone

Spied by drones, and feeling down-loaded