Survival of the fittest.. (a poem by Jack)

The universe is moving on without me and I can’t keep up…

Survival of the fittest…

Yet survival of lucrative ain’t leaving room for any other…

If Negro derived from Necro what does that mean..

I’m a dead man walking and survival is futile… Or perhaps I’m a spook.. A living ghost… Here to haunt you and remind you of a world that was and is perpetually dying off…

Boo!

I fear the most. The seeds of the earth aren’t being planted on fertile soil… They are falling to the wayside.. Being gathered up.. Social deconstructed… Genetically reengineered… Bearing the fruit of lies…

How can I keep up with this world… Money rules the actions of men.. If it doesn’t meet the bottom line it doesn’t so much matter..

Bottom line is I can’t keep up… Money plants seeds in the hearts of the chosen…

I was never chosen..

I sold my kidney so my family can eat… Ironic, my kidney isn’t fit enough to survive in me but in the body of the chosen it flourishes…

My body was sold to the lust of men.. Ironic… My body wasn’t fit enough to survive in peace it must be ravaged by the desires of the chosen…

I was slaughtered in a “drive-by”… My body wasn’t fit enough to live in peace yet my organs somehow found their way to black market..

The dark road to the chosen…

At least if I can’t pay the toll… With peace of mind…I can rest assured I can leverage the salt of the earth..

This universe is trying to help but the money is too fast… It’s keeping up with the money… And leaving me left in the irony…

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