Survival of the Fittest

Survival Of The Fittest By: Miracle Man 11-22-2019 The sun plays peek a boo through a mottled sky, And a Red Hawk circles in it’s lofty search. Espying no movement in the grass from on high, It returns from aloft to it’s dead tree perch. Most times it searches from a high altitude, Constantly looking for its next unwary prey. It spends endless hours foraging for food, In hopes of surviving for another day. Survival of the fittest is the name of the game, The Red Hawk kills striving to stay alive. I suppose all creatures were gifted the same, We do what life requires to just to survive. “The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.” Doug Larsen
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace