Colin F. Jones

DANGER

Discovering things already found,
The young mans mind is placed,
And trying things already tried,
Is a ritualistic waste.
What is there left to invent,
The tools have all been made;
That to the single mind is lent
In the confines of his trade.
Potential lies within the group
That serves the public best;
That controls the orders of the troop
With a shared and common quest.
People flock to watch a fire;
They need the wrestler’s act,
To satisfy the strong desire,
To challenge every fact.
The safer that our world becomes,
The more we seek out fear,
Denied of any personal risk,
We lack the joy of cheer,
For we are programmed for the thrill,
To have danger in our lives,
To enrich the deeds we must fulfil,
On which the human thrives.
This is not born of conscious thought,
Tis the chemistry in our veins,
Despite the pleasures of his resort,
Man still compelled complains.