There are things that **** us,
like cigarettes, bad food, and deodorants
But we still abuse them and take advantage of their existence.
There are things that help us,
Like parents, fitness, friends, and lovers
But they'll still **** us anyways.
Life is not life without death by its side and I'm not sure if I'll ever figure out why.
And if I **** myself with my tar filled lungs and tendencies to eat terrible things on the weekends,
Then so be it.
While you sit there and eat all of your organic greens and go to the gym three times a week,
You'll die just like the rest of us.
We all have things in common, things that bind us and things that blind us,
So why is it that our way to die is what defines us?