The Rebel’s Yell

I know a man, a normal man,
In almost every way,
But he goes through life
Afraid that everything
Will change some day.

And though he knows,
In his mind at least,
That change is bound to come,
He doesn’t welcome it at all
And from it, tries to run.

It seems like his security
Depends on making sure
That things today remain
Exactly as things
Always were.

And so his fear turns into hate
When changes come too fast,
And he lashes out in anger
And claims that
Good things never last.

The sad thing is, this miserable man
Has let himself go blind,
And trying to stop progress
He’s making sure
He’s left behind.

©2018 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.