A rare inspiration; slam poetry.

TITLE:
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True survival is;
but Natural Selection,
verse diversity
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POEM:
What is Evolution; but the natural selection of an unlucky few,
And the survival of the lucky others.

Where alpha dogs sing "I am fitness; relate to me"
Lost in narcissism, blind to his sumbliminal bigotry.
Where survival is arrival. I made it, all hail me.
No, it the path that had led you to him, to her, to me.

There is a rat race; my brothers; to sanctuary;
And it is not the predators we run away from;
for they have been, ready, unforeseen; their fangs bared; ahead.
And it is not where we run to either; for sanctuary is where?
where?
where?

Do still run nevertheless, for not all predators are prepared, planned out, found plump at their station.
It does better to run; than be predictable in one location.
But don't run like the sheep we seem as; for we are all wolves under the seams.
And wolves work together; though dynamic in situations; they keep to a pack.
As a pack, we can win survive!!

Nye Nye Nye , Nay Nay Nay.
Nay, for wolves would have starved stalling at the river mate.
Having eaten everything on its way to the checkpoint; and stalled they ate everything at the checkpoint.
The gazelle you have damned, the rodents you have damned, the insects you have damned.
Game over wolves; you didn't just die; you'd have screwed the race.

For,
The pace of the race, was the pace of...
the rodent; if left undead.
Will build a damn that doubles as their fortifications for the beds.
Which we can trample along; and pass ahead.

Then along comes a spider, you did not expect.
With its tetrachromatic vision it sensed the duress;
you placed on your neighbor for the bulbs they did create.
Coveting UV rays that sanitized tools. Was the marking that marked them as spider-kind foods.

Now what would have happened if the neighbor did not exist?
Would the spider preferred to suck your own vitality?
And hear comes the true reality.

There is a rat race; my brothers; to sanctuary
And it is not the predators we run away from;
for they have been, ready, unforeseen; their fangs bared; ahead.
And it is not where we run to either; for sanctuary is where?
where?
Survival lies not with your destiny; but with a path filled with unjudged diversity.

READING FROM PAPER W/ FULL TONE TOOK 2min. 46seconds.