Life is like toilet paper
It starts out a pure white, plump with years
And it seems to last forever
Until it doesn't
And only when it's almost gone do you realize
That the roll is nearly gone
At last, you sadly peel from the cardboard cylinder
A pathetically thin sheath that tears and comes off as shreds
The skeleton remains, an ugly dilapidated brown
And you look into the trash can
Realizing that you can't get that roll back anymore
That you could have used the roll more wisely
That you could have made it last longer
And that it was completely filled with ****