We Aint Old Yet Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Less are precious moments kept,
In need of showmanship.
To sell them to others as treasured,
Whoever wishes them to remember.
But to those told to forget.

Even to embellish them,
With an excitement to delight...
Precious moments kept to reminisce,
As one flips through stained pages...
With a dusting them before they are kissed,
Eventually the doing of this...
Fades away to stay that way,
From generation to generation.
Until no ancestor is missed.

'I remember my great grandparents,
Who came...
Are you kids paying me any attention? '

~We will.
But can it wait until we finish playing,
Video games on our cellphones?
And after I answer text messages I'm getting?
I'm sure your great grandparents wont mind.~

'But...
Don't you want to know about your family tree? '

~Why?
We aint old yet.
Trees have been around for a long time.
Everybody knows that.~