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A Poem by Thayne Whipple

DNA

Feb 9, 2016
“Your father’s head is going bald.”
“Your mother’s toes are funny.”
“Your uncle has a nervous tick.”
“Your cousin’s nose is runny.”
Yes, child recent to the world,
Your fate is not your own.
The body you’ll be using
Is something of a clone.
The scientists have coined a word –
Genetics is the name.
It means you might look funny, but,
We’ll love you just the same.
— Thayne Whipple

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