We are spawned as a blank slate,
With no rhyme or reason,
A doll not yet painted,
A straw fetish not yet burned,
We’re a biological puzzle,
A mutable disasterpiece,

We shift and grow over the years,
Mutated by our experiences,
Adapting bodily to lifes toils,
Given hardier scales after each betrayal,
Sharper talons and fangs for every struggle,
Sprouting wings to follow our dreams,

Each of us adapts differently,
The beauty and horror of nature,
Decade after decade,
And trial after challenge,
We keep evolving,
Until we finally go extinct.

Comments
  1. Wow…deep perspective.
    I like the line…’ sprouting wings to follow our dreams.. “

  2. Great poem. Love the art too!

  3. Cassa Bassa says:

    “A straw fetish not yet burned” very creative line

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s