Old Vices

I need the tender soothing of old vices
The familiarity of sound devices
and the humming of friendly voices
droning in the other room.

Does this make me backwards,
sorely dated, antiquated?
I think a common weakness more equates.

Do I shy from life's surprises,
or shrink in fear when luck defies us?
Perhaps sometimes I do.

And yet it would seem to me
that my strife initial came to me
from tiring of the same old day to day.

Yes in fact, I know it to be true,
for change and uproar my hunger grew
but found myself enlightened by old vices.

Which brings me then, I must suppose,
to the same conclusion often posed
that life ends precisely where it started.

I'll go on searching as most do
despite suspecting this is true
for really, what's the problem with this notion?

It does not change my sense of smell
or rob me of a place to dwell
nor cease my warm heart's steady swell,
so why waste a moment in delusion?

And further more, is it not the stretching,
the struggle, sometimes the helpless retching
that elevates the human race
to dream a far and distant place,
spend all he has in time and money
just to taste the envisioned honey/.

Honey that would mean nothing to him
where it not just out of reach.