If It Ain’t Broke—Don’t Fix It

I. The Truck (Earl & Mike, 1975)

Earl’s hands were cracked, his knuckles worn,

Fixed every engine since he was born.

His truck was steel, its gears were strong,

It rumbled deep, it rolled along.

But Mike, his boy, all full of pride,

Said, “Hand cranks, Dad? You must be blind!

I'll install electric locks, a motorized door,

You’ll never struggle, not anymore.”

Earl’s mother—silver hair and slight,

Warned them both beneath the night:

"If it ain't broke—don't fix it."

The storm rolled in, the floods ran high,

Earl’s truck stalled under the sky.

They reached to crank the window down,

But the switch was dead—they both would drown.

Water rose, the doors stayed shut,

Electric locks had sealed them up.

No levers left, no twist, no trick—

If it ain't broke—don't fix it.

II. The Digital Map (John, 2000)

The world was changing, sleek and bright,

Paper maps faded overnight.

No more charts, no twists, no turns,

Just satellites to track and learn.

“No more wrong roads, no more strays,

Just type it in—it guides your way.”

Steel and circuits, voice so clear,

Trust the system—nothing to fear.

But voices called from long ago,

A warning hummed so soft, so low:

"If it ain't broke—don't fix it."

Mike's son, John—so proud, so sure,

Bought a brand-new car, secure.

No more maps—no human hand,

Just a screen to trace the land.

The mountains stretched, the road ran thin,

But GPS said, “Turn again.”

A sharp-cut path, a sudden cliff,

The car obeyed—a fatal shift.

The tires spun, the brakes went slack,

No road ahead—no turning back.

A voice once trusted, cold and quick—

If it ain't broke—don't fix it.

III. The House (John’s Son, 2025)

John’s boy built his home in perfect code,

Lights that knew when to explode.

Doors that sensed the coming feet,

A fridge that knew what he should eat.

“No more keys, no need to guess,

My home shall learn, my life’s no mess.”

A tap, a beep, a whispered word,

His house obeyed, his will conferred.

Yet in the walls, his father’s voice,

A whisper lost, a mother’s choice:

"If it ain't broke—don't fix it."

The night turned black, the circuits fried,

The smart-home locks all shut inside.

John’s boy woke up to flames and smoke,

The power gone—no doors, no hope.

He called to open, screamed to break,

But the system did not wake.

A voice once his—just cold, just quick—

If it ain't broke—don't fix it.

IV. The Car (Zack, Earl's Great-Grandson, 2050)

Zack lived his life in sleek design,

A car that knew the road and time.

No wheel to turn, no gears to shift,

Just thoughts that moved, a seamless drift.

“Old cars crashed, they burned, they flipped,

Mine predicts, mine won’t be tricked.”

No levers left, no clumsy brakes,

Just code that learns from past mistakes.

Yet ghosts still whispered, voices thin,

A warning hummed beneath his skin.

"If it ain't broke—don't fix it."

The night was slick, the road was glass,

The car misread the turn too fast.

Zack reached to grab the wheel—no use,

The screen just blinked, the belt stayed loose.

The door handles hid, the locks stayed tight,

The system cold, the world went white.

No hands to hold, no twist, no click—

If it ain't broke—don't fix it.

V. The Echo

Five men stand at time’s own gate,

Each has lost, too late, too late.

Their ghosts still whisper through the years,

A lesson bought with blood and tears.

And in the wind, in death’s cold mix,

A voice still hums, a voice still ticks:

"If it ain't broke—don't fix it."

Author's Note

I wrote this after watching a recent video by Bill Maher. I agree with much of what he says about the concept of 'Reverse Improvement'—a term he introduced over five years ago, as seen in the second video.