The second, third, or fourth time that I hit the old pink cloud,
I stopped myself from feeling dread and simply laughed aloud,
Knowing full well I should be ashamed; I couldn't help but to feel proud,
And I may not have boasted to everyone but I sure did amongst that crowd,
Because there comes a point, a place in time, where I'm just glad to have survived,
To have caused as little damage and maybe in some ways thrived,
I'm not some hopeless, hapless sap needing constantly revived,
I watched my head in shallow waters every time I dived,
I won't defend a way of living that I wouldn't recommend,
I can't begin to tell you of the things in life it brings screeching to an end,
It costs a pretty penny too, one you probably shouldn't spend,
And eventually taking all that risk demands that something to either hell or heaven send