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Rated: E · Poetry · Technology · #2215564
Is new always best?
Fatality of Progress

I sit in my cave, all shivering and cold, huddled under the furs I lie
A raging storm, with thunder and lightning, here in fear I hide
The storm in its fury, a spark is ignited, I bring the glowing ember inside
In a circle of stones, a pile of sticks, this storm has improved my life.

Now into the future, the circle is gone, my home has a build in the wall
It may be of mud, or stone, or brick, but together all neatly trawled
A laborious task, the wood to chop, and split for the trip I now haul
I sit here beside it, all warm in the glow, with dinner all ready to call.

Step toward the present, progress is good, my options are many you see
I can keep the old, but now with coal, the labor is less for me
A newfangled stove, to heat and cook, with its round cast iron belly
And we sit here beside it, its radiant heat, warming my family and me.

Almost here now, the Boomer generation, growing and expanding like wild
Industrialization and commercialization, has proliferated into many a style
The old is still there, as well as the stove, but gas is now the new child
Just flip a switch, or push a remote, and the heat is hot or mild.

Now it’s today, all the advancements we’ve made, living technology’s wild ride
Out with the old, no work for me, only living life on the fast side
Electric flat panel, flames and heat, no work or fuel to hide
It’s twenty below, and the power went out, I think I’m going to die.
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