Old roads built out of bricks and blood,
The man fell down with a heavy thud.
Stabbed from all sides, cornered in a hall,
It did not take long for the man to fall.
His supporters had adored his great rise,
They had seen the word through his eyes.
His life did not begin well, nor was its end.
Believers believed that he could mend.
A democracy crumbled, a dollar destroyed,
To him the nation is but a toy.
He played with it wrong and paid the price,
A violent end to a quick life.
I love cars and I cannot fully explain why. There is something about them that just excites me and turns me into a little boy.
I think Top Gear said it best by calling that feeling the “fizz”, the feeling that certain cars give you that just cannot be explained.
I love going fast and yet I don’t need to while enjoying a car (although some cars just have to be driven quickly).
Being a poor teenager there is no way that I get to drive supercars and hypercars, just admire them from a distance.
And yet, that is good enough for me.
It is an art form that combines design with functionality. It is not something that can be replicated exactly but something that evolves and is interpreted differently.
A simple car that is made as cheaply as possible is just as impressive as a car that can go over 200 mph. It is the brilliant engineering in both.
Ultimately a great car is one that you can bond with, one that adopts human-like characteristics. That is the dream car, no price tag, no status, just a relationship.
OVS Journalism Blog 
