Poem: An Heirloom From My Grandparents

An Heirloom From My Grandparents
I was only a boy, you said,
did not have a place for it
anywhere, but, you told me,
though you were taking
it now, when the day
came, when I had my own
home, you promised,
it would be mine.  Now
I am, but I know, already
 you have given
it to my cousin,
your daughter.  Is it that you 
did not believe it important
to me, thought I would
forget that treasure
of my grandparents'
home, would not recall
my inheritance? Or is it
that you cared so little
about what you told
a child you do not
remember at all, never
intended it as anything
but pacification?  Why
am I wrong to ask
for what I had always
believed was mine already?
How can I forgive this when
I am still wondering
why I should have to?

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