Evolve

The term that we call Evolution, May one day provide solutions, As we try to enhance the senses, That seem bound by genetic fences... Our strands of DNA within, Has grown so far beyond our skin, That what we hear see smell and touch, Just doesn't seem to matter much... Praying on computer power, That seems to triple by the hour, What was once a front side bus, Is somehow woven into us... When terms like gigs and megahertz, Are stitched in pockets on our shirts, By parts we make from processed sand, That used to be done by our hands... But no matter what the augmentation, It's only cloning your sensation, So evolution won't mistake, The part that's real from the part that's fake...