Madagascar

Racing through the city nights,
A vehicle claims the stage,
And glitters as it wins the prize,
And disturbs the peace in rage.

Triumphant as it leaves again,
Reflecting in the night,
It asks itself a question bold,
Of what to make of this startling sight.

Lost, alone, and shattered,
It rests without its steam,
It loses all its sparkle,
And will to live, it seems.

But in the mirror is a vision
Of itself so true,
Within, the very essence lays
Of each and every hue.