Need

I am not ready for the world to change.
I like it like it is, and should remain,
Fearing all alteration. Should a strange
And different world appear, the strain
Might make me mad. I cannot say it will
For I am desperate, and will not admit
That change will come. I want it to be still
Continuous and constant. As I knit
My life together, I do not desire
To think of anything too oddly new;
I want to be the same, and will not tire
Of being who I am. All this is true.
And yet I cannot toss the nagging doubt
That there is something I am still without.