Isn’t
it odd? The things that were
Once
viewed peculiar
Are
now accepted as normal.
Once
solemn and prim
Like
the words of a hymn
Spoken
now as obtuse and informal.
What
was in is now out,
What
was then is no more,
Every
whimsey and trend
Quickly
kicked out the door
When
a new frill or angle
Is
dangled on string.
And
every new-fangled contraption is king
Til
the gloss loses luster
And
new starts to fade,
Then
everyone seeks out
A
fresh escapade.
Oh,
fickle and feckless
These
humans must be
To
ornate their days
With
such trite filigree
When
matters of import
Grow
tattered with age,
Then
find their delight
Seeking
out the new rage.
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