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The Fear of the New

Why do the foolish scoff and sneer

At every change that draws near?

A touchscreen, a drone, a car without keys—

They grumble and mumble like rust in the breeze.

They say, “It’s dumb,” or “That won’t last,”

Clinging tight to a comfortable past.

Not out of wisdom, or insight deep,

But fear of the climb when the slope is steep.

For learning takes effort, and growth feels strange,

And comfort resists the need to change.

So they mock what they don’t understand,

Like castles of sand that slip from their hands.

But truth be told, the world won’t wait—

It moves with or without their hate.

So better to try, to stumble, to grow,

Then sit in the dark and curse the glow.