A Picture of Health

For all his wealth, he was, a picture of health.

He didn't start that way. 

Up, from the mud, he did climb.

A survivor of the primordial slime. 

He eked out an existence on the edge,

Looking for a niche into which he could wedge.

A shelter from his shocking birth.

A place to call home on this Earth.

Life taught him how to eat and breathe

Pain and misery, love and lust, angry seethe.

One crack in his armor, and he would die,

The primary fact of life was that death was no lie.

Survival was the only thing he had.

Life over death, not good or bad. 

His survival became a perfect being, formed at birth,

Armed with intelligence to rule this Earth.

But time and treachery always did their part,

Tearing him down to his cold, dead heart.

But science and survival came to the rescue.

To repair and replace all infirmity to his cue.

What was once wretched became revitalized.

A picture of health, soon to be immortalized.

Copyright 2000 © Ronald W. Hull




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