Why Improve?

Some days I wonder why I try

To change things for the better.

I am left trying not to cry

Bound with an iron fetter.

Bound with a choking collar made

Of restricting states of mind

Riveted with hard statements said,

Rigid thinking does so bind.

Suggesting change brings forth contempt

Hatred and anger are thrown

So why do I even attempt

To change what has firmly grown?

Does the rose hate the pruning shear?

The bonsai tree its restraint?

Yet each grows fairer the next year

With no seeming bitter taint.