One thing I don't understand is the rush to be the best,
When in fifty odd years you will die,
And all that hard work gone down the drain,
What I don't understand is why we ignore death,
Until it is standing on our doorstep,
We live to die,
We die to perhaps live again,
But if this was true then we are an unstoppable cycle,
Bored of our own existence,
Until we ruin what we have,
And there's nothing more,
But oblivion.