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Two brothers there were
Of parents poor,
Who begged for their bread
From door to door.
Their father a drunk,
Their mother a whore:
Like beasts they lived,
Like beasts they bore.

The years slipped by
As they usually do,
Faster and faster,
Now fewer – then few.
One brother, the younger;
A sluggard and sot,
Lay sprawled in the gutter
Foul cursing his lot:
“How came I like this?
You ask me to tell:
If you knew where I came from,
You’d understand well!”

But not so the other,
So different in pride;
For he was a rich man,
E’en richer inside:
“How came I like this?
You ask me to tell:
If you knew where I came from,
You’d understand well!”

@Thurstan Bassett

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