The less you shoot… (Poem)

I got what I wanted
then I fucked that package up

A meal for the birds who find joy in the pain

I sat around and wondered
quite more often than I should have
if I’d ever make sense of the mess of words in my head

Each letter, a tip
Each word, a bullet
Each message, the power that goes inside

Each person, a rifle
Perception, a scope
Each target is what we plan to own

But when targets are just practice
in your insatiable lust for more

Then what you own is a pile of nothing
With a chasing after moan

But the less you shoot the more you aim
What a beautiful life when you get what you claim