Matchsticks

Matchstick men with heads aflame,

Trailing smoke signals all over the place,

Some folk choose to burnout rather than fade away, they say;

When these hotheads get together though,

You best steer well clear;

For the bonfire that ensues;

Will engulf those who tread near willingly and bystander alike;

For fanatics come in all shapes and hardly ever die alone;

As misery loves company,

So, if you have any choice in it, my friend:

Rush in haste if you must,

But, be equally prepared to repent at leisure;

For, they also say: life is not a sprint, but a marathon;

You have more time to reflect on what you’ve done (or not) than the actual doing takes.

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