Dina: Oh, honey, why don't you read Greg your poem?
Jack: Oh, no, he doesn't want to hear that.
Greg: What? No! What-What-What poem?
Dina: You see, when Jack had to retire...for health reasons...
Jack: That's a bunch of malarky. Honey, I'm fine.
Dina: The doctor thought it would be therapeutic if he...sort of expressed his emotions in an artistic way. Honey, you wrote the most beautiful poem about your mother.
Pam: Please, we really wanna hear it.
Greg: Poem, poem. Please!
Jack: Oh, all right. It's a work in progress. I'm still not happy with it. As soon as it's ready, then I am going to glaze it onto a plate...and put it next to the urn.
Greg: Nice.
Dina: It's very special.
Jack: "My Mother" by Jack Byrnes. You gave me life, you gave me milk, you gave me courage. Your name was Angela, the angel from heaven, but you were also an angel of God, and He needed you too. Selfishly I tried to keep you here...while the cancer ate away your organs...like an unstoppable rebel force. But I couldn't save you, and I shall see your face...nevermore, nevermore, nevermore, until we meet...in heaven.
Pam: Daddy, that's beautiful.
Dina: It always gets me.
Greg: Amazing. So-So--So much love, yet also so much information.
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