Natural Selection - Poem by Niran Olaitan
Dust and debris are dead
Now, brooms are swept
Pinioned, witches wail
Blowing dust from desert
The gale breaks
Brooms, green in their fronds
Brooms now in bits
In Darwin's gnarled palm
Postscript: Competitiveness, Darwin's spell on humanity. It grows strong that the endowed, intelligent, strong... are beaten out of the game. Realising this, forces of nature introduce some distractions to soften the life battle. These distractions lose their mark causing humanity to lose its purpose.
Comments about Natural Selection by Niran Olaitan
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.