Change
They say the times are changing,
But that’s not really true.
We rehash times that have come before.
The world is old but nothing’s new.
Empires rise and then turn sour,
Built on commercial or military power.
Revolutions loudly or quietly occur,
Born amid flames or without causing a stir.
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Aggression and apathy prove equal extremes,
Giving dominion to evil regimes.
A nation's resolve is always tried,
When races, religions, and customs collide.
Authority is challenged and justice is sought.
​​In the streets or in the courtrooms battles are fought.
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Scandals are exposed, conspiracies concocted.
Trends, beliefs, and causes adopted.
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Perspectives are lost, or tossed at a cost.
Greed battles need until forced to concede.
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Riches are squandered by those who are wealthy.
Opportunity, wasted on those who are healthy.
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Time alters language, ambition, and culture.
But our nature stays the same; it doesn't wane, it doesn't alter.
From our first cry until the day that we die,
We’ll ask the questions Who? What? When? How? And Why?
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We’ll want to be loved, to know purpose, to belong.
We’ll want to know what’s right from wrong.
The world that we find; the life that we build
We’ll depend upon how these needs are fulfilled.
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The future may promise new thrills and spills,
But their ingredients will be as old as the hills.
Nothing can happen that hasn’t been done,
For nothing is truly new under the sun.
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© Matt Cope 2024
