Poem: [It comes and goes like a hit and run driver]

1
It comes and goes
Like a hit and run driver.

An errant bullet's ricochet,
A pickpocket works the crowd,

Your worst enemy gets the drop on you,
The rogue bacteria waits on a doorknob,

Or maybe the crosswalk you don't walk into
As a driver speeds through the light

While you stop to tie your shoe.
Luck and circumstance conspire to save you.

2
Every glorious second you spend here,
You engage in a game of dodge ball,

And bob and weave through a multitude
Of objective hazards, walls, and shoals

Over which you have no control―
Only a fraction of which you ever feel.

3
If we knew of every near-miss,
It could be tough to keep shuffling on,

And somehow, we learn just enough
To mostly keep us on our toes.
---o0o---