There’s much we’re given that we cast aside.
The process: fitting in or standing out —
And yet, heredity is hard to hide:
Its workings leave bystanders little doubt
As to where we might come from. After all,
Although our own uniqueness we might tout,
Genetic code across us like a scrawl
Is penned. Then add to that the same environ,
And few things but a total overhaul
Can change us: family figures, wrought in iron.
Those differences that once seemed deep and wide,
Are blurred, be we all buffalo or lion,
The tether of our sameness keeps us tied,
Another reason when we left, we lied