Life

When you are born,

It is like stepping into a car going downhill

The first few minutes,

Like the first few years,

Are fun an happy,

But as life goes on,

People begin to take shots at you,

Some are meaningless,

Like losing a bumper,

But some are hurtful,

Like taking out the windshield,

As you grow old,

The car breaks down,

It begins to tear,

You lose the important parts,

From here there are three people,

Those who are taken by disease,

And sit and do nothing,

Crashing and burning,

Then there are those who die peacefully,

Crashing into a tree and crumbling,

But then there are those few people,

That when they take a big hit,

They don't ride it out,

They take the wheel,

They drift and fly down the hill,

Going out in a blaze of glory,

Having fun the entire way down,

All they way up until they crash and die.