Caveman in a concrete jungle

Once I would have gathered wood for fire
now I gather my courage to satisfy my desire.
Once I would have had epic battles for my life
now I struggle with loneliness and strife.
I am a man out of time, out of place
yes we wear the same skin on our face
but somehow, some way I became
the Concrete Jungle Caveman by name
always seeking something so primal and raw
but only finding facades in it all.
Misreading social cues as antagonistic,
some days I travel for miles to find my new mystic
yet I'm alone, no tribe of my own
hunting down this wooly mammoth alone
hoping my spear strikes true and quick
in an attempt to make my legacy stick.
Excommunicated and oddly built
this modern flower refuses to wilt
instead, rising beaten but alive,
leaving my cave, in search of a new hive.