Accepting Change

Change is inevitable,

But we resist as though we have a choice

We fear the unknown,

Even though we know that's the road we're on...

The older we get,

The more complacent we become

And the less we change,

The harder it is to move—

Forward, backward, sideways...

New vantage points slip through our fingers

As we stagnate and begin to rot

The stench of stillness radiating from our core

Until we become a statue,

A mysterious figure found in ruins

Wishing we could move

Wishing we could change.