The ride that was not chosen.
Perhaps we do so, at the starting line.
For we ought to get impulse
If we want to soar high.
And for every high, the fall comes following,
The jump propels, it is a byproduct.
Of further growth, that goes by, nudging.
However, if you exit that cargo,
Defeated and tired of being low,
That is when you stop the spin.
Though you have stalled, your motivation to live.
Becoming an invisible bystander, watching others on their trip.