Each love is like racing cars, <br />Driving through the final line; <br />Wounds from losing - all its scars, <br />Shiver up your spine. <br /> <br />You, the driver of speed car, <br />Formulates through the years; <br />Rotten deals with feelings are, <br />Making clouds from tears. <br /> <br />Take the car and steer it well, <br />To lives fortunes and each fame; <br />You could likewise drive to hell, <br />It's a speed life's game.<br /><br />Peter S. Quinn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/50-from-what-s-really-happening-in-54-numbers/
