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Sight: Unfinished
#1
Let me show you something beautiful,
The very reason we can see,
Long ago our ancestors were fruitful, 
But they were blind, unlike you and me.

A patch of skin became the key,
The skin reacted when light fell,
Now they could tell if light or dark it be,
This was not sight but did serve them well.

To sense a shadow in the swell,
To know a monster cloaks the sun,
Provided them a warning bell,
A signal screaming you should run.

Of all their brethren these survived,
Started down the path to having eyes.

Started down the path to having eyes,
Yet that path is long with many turns,
Our ancestors could not see the skies,
Yet no advantage nature spurns.

In some, a cup did form that earns,
A new most impressive skill,
A bevel in their flesh that turns,
The simple patch directional.

A simple change exceptional,
To know from whence the monster comes,
Gave them an edge to survival,
Of all their kin they had more sons.

Thus the struggle for life goes on,
This road to sight only just begun.

The road to sight only just begun,
Those ancient ones had far to go,
Still, they could not glimpse the sun,
Though by its light much they could know.

Changes occur in times great flow,
Adapting each generation passed,
Subtle changes as the cup does grow,
Deeper and more curved each than the last.

Who could better sense shadows cast,
Survived and flourished  spread their seed,
The deep curved cups escape danger fast,
Those born flat and shallow do not breed.

To aid these creatures in their fear,
More changes yet will still appear.

More changes yet will still appear,
The aeons pass the cup does close,
Onto the cells, the first time sear,
Images dim, faint and transpose.

This new power can expose,
The monster slow and sluggish,
It becomes easy to suppose,
Our monster becomes a side dish.

Please recall that we speak of fish,
Out in the ancestral ocean,
These fish can see and are selfish,
Vision an unrivalled notion.

Our ancestors that could just swim,
Though they can see their sight is dim.
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#2
Awesome!
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#3
Unfinished? Sounds pretty full to me.
Let's see the bright sight of this world!
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#4
The poem is unfinished and so is the subject of it *Grins*
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