Don’t Need No Progress

Everywhere I see the news:
“The future will bring such wonders.”
Magazines and pundits all enthuse,
And tell us we’ll live to a hundred.

New discoveries, they proclaim
Will change us dramatically.
Technology will our lives reframe;
We’ll be living ecstatically.

Robots will do the dirty work;
Medicines will make us healthy.
We’ll grow new limbs, we’ll never get hurt,
We’ll all be very wealthy.

It all sounds grand and glorious,
And I hope to see it come true,
But I don’t take it very serious,
I’ve got a skeptical view.

I’ve lived too long on this Earth
To get caught up in the hype and the bluster.
I remember with some sense of mirth,
Predictions that didn’t pass muster.

Gardens on Mars, remember them?
Or affordable cars that fly.
Or the most ridiculous one, ahem:
Teleporting in the blink of an eye.

I’m not begrudging our progress,
And I love predictions so bold,
But I’d be happy with no more, no less,
Than a cure for the common cold.

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