The Nonconformist

The rule of the world was always

to pass on genes, to ensure

the survival of DNA,

which eventually evolved into

preserving the color of eyes

or avoiding diseases,

– at least with humans anyway –

and that was the way it was

and has been.

So when the lone grasshopper

cried out in a forest

of insects begging others

to love them,

to make genetic copies,

that he would much prefer

to live alone,

to maybe travel the

woodlands, visit

the nearby river,

he was drowned out by

the sea of chirps and voices

singing out the sole

reason for living –

to pass on.

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19 thoughts on “The Nonconformist

      1. Not so sad for me. It’s an answer which makes sense. With that question taken care of, I can get on with all the other perplexing and fascinating questions of the universe. πŸ™‚

  1. A poem with a big message, Natalie. The grasshopper travels on, the selfish gene becoming less selfish as we grow up and understand things better. Such wonderful poetry.

Thoughts? I love those.

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