Change

Can sorrow ever resolve to joy
or pleasure evolve to pain
as ice in summer reverts to streams
and sunshine converts to rain;

or as boys age quickly into men
and men grow old and die:
what conversion ratio applies to life
in a future past-perfect tense?

Who will determine the fate of plural wives:
who moves and who stays on
to recreate the “once upon” 
abandoned for other lives? 
 
Will greed, disgust and passion flee,
former happiness once again heeded 
with none of the anger or pain of sex: 
no hurt, no forgiveness needed. 

No more of that love humans seem to crave
that more often to boredom fades: 
a love that hurts, but reconciles
both failures and escapades. 

Is that the end we really want:
God weary and humans worn out?
Men bored to death with insipid cant 
and women who only pout 

because there is nothing new to do,
conversation become the curse 
of common subjects already chewed 
not just for an age, but worse?