Jake's sheltered life lead him to the crotch of a decision,
To fill his Swiss cheese brain with skills of army precision,
Or remain a beast of burden under his father's supervision,
A minefield of dire possibilities was Jake's labor to envision.
Shall success be measured by the count of enemies he slays,
In a wildly gruesome world where death walks three steps away?
Shall he lend his backbone to the farm, work the sand and clay,
And echo the plow, till and plant of fields, safe as child's play?
Jake listened to his father's plea to stay a simple farmer's hand,
To spread his heirloom garden seed and sweat upon the land,
Jake's brother seized the farm and as his father's last command,
Make sure Jake's future is preserved, as all vegetables are canned.
That's the story of how my great-uncle Jake came to live with us,
Inherited by my dad when my grandfather's failing farm went bust,
Because of Jakes bittersweet story when the time for me to trust,
I left my childhood home and let my family eat my dust.
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