Transitions Come Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

It is not a pendulum to see.
Reversing its direction.
To believe never to leave,
A longevity remaining affixed.
Done to have folks stunned.
And with a preparedness to run from it.

Transitions come.
To mix up the heads.
Of those once too stubborn.
To be made convinced of what to them comes.
Efficient are these transitions and equipped.
As a past held onto tightly slips,
Fast from the grasp.
Of the ones living it to perceive,
Forever unchanged are these times to exist.

All melodies composed to sing.
Have begun to become rearranged.
A comforted stability shakes to fade away.
And beliefs to keep them sacred.
Has no place in the future to stay.
Transitions come to mix up heads.

Renovating to replace, update and revamp.
Transitions come.
And the rhythm of the dance,
Have some exclaiming...
What has been done to do will not be changed.
Stubborn and cemented.
Are many addicted,
To their foolishness.
As is fixated to stay forever ignorant.
Loving it to pride.
Yet,
Not to notice or be aware...
Enlightenment awaits.
Disguised with a surprise.
That opens their eyes wider forever.
Transitions come to everyone.
Done to leave no one behind.
Even the ones now too blind to see.
Incredibly adapting to adopt the new.
To know nothing else is it they can do.
As transitions come to eventually complete
The minds of inner city lovers.
And those elite.
A reception without exceptions to accept.
The revamping.
Enhanced.
When transitions come to be done.