Change

As a creature of habit, I crash and burn.
Why? Because that’s what I do.
Just ask my habits, they’ll tell you.
The devil you know, or so they say,
change is such a hard way.
And while greed breeds greed, sin breeds sin
So too with despair, gluttony, sloth, and Gin.
But habits are formed through the comfort of use.
Good or bad the things we do, we get accustomed to,
as through life we roam.
Until success must be present
Or hell our home
So as slaves to desire, or just to fit in
We live life conflicted
Between who we are, with the things that we do
Acceptance seeps in
and then we are doomed
or so it seems.
But the truth doesn’t lie there
it’s merely a screen.

To alter our course
we must go against what feels right
be uncomfortable, through the long dark night
When at last, in the morning light
the change, like the slow rising sun
finally erupts!
And the process begun
Now a new habit can start to form
as the old ones are grudgingly scorned.
The demons, now gone, replaced with success
Now living breeds life, progress, progress
So too with happiness, peace, action, and friends
Now we know we can be
What we truly are
In the end


--Tom Walsh
 

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