Survival of the Fitest

In this hardship of survival of the fitest... I detest the idea of "kill or be killed",leaving me rather frabbergasted of the context.. i quiver in fear of what's upon me... When people remind me that am a spiting image of my father, i remember his wrongs and never his rights... My brother the complete spiting image of my father.Remind's me of the old man who was there but was never there, saying but never speaking,pointing but not directing,gazing but not looking..... I remember the hardships i faced when all he had to do was look at me, and help me find my way again... My fitness came with anger, it came with sorrow, and the undisputedy bitterness of my soul, brought out the best in me...like an hatching egg, i will not beg to be released...As i am acustomed to survival..