In every human endeavor
it seems the means
becomes more important
than the end.
We evolve faced
with challenges —
physical or
mental or
spiritual —
then a control freak
emerges, demands
things be done his way.
Everyone else follows —
out of fear or
laziness or
whatever —
until someone seeks
another way.
There begins a revolt
with new answers.
And on and on and on.
We lose track
of the end.
Posted by: John | September 1, 2014
Evolution
Posted in Poetry
What are your thoughts?