The Caveman

More about The Caveman

In a time long ago, in the ancient past,
Lived a man so primal, his ways were vast.
He roamed the earth, a nomadic soul,
Unfazed by civilization's modern toll.
With skin of bronze, and hair unkempt,
A rugged figure, wild and unkempt.
His home was nature, his shelter crude,
A cave his refuge, a life so crude.
He hunted with skill, with spears in hand,
Tracking prey across the untamed land.
His senses sharp, his instincts keen,
A primal hunter, a wilderness scene.
He painted on walls, with colors bold,
Leaving stories told, from days of old.
Symbols and signs, a language pure,
A communication, timeless and sure.
He made fire dance, with sparks and flame,
Harnessing its power, a primal claim.
It kept him warm, it cooked his food,
A force of nature, a tool so crude.
He lived in tune, with nature's ways,
With reverence for the nights and days.
He honored earth, the sky, the trees,
In harmony with the gentle breeze.
Though life was tough, his spirit free,
He lived in harmony, with simplicity.
A glimpse of our past, a primal spark,
The caveman's world, so wild and stark.