With a blast I send out my POW!!!
demonstrating the force of my cannon
passing through the wind, the shot falls short
there in the level plain a new gaping chasm has found its way
with a great cry it is born!
proudly, its father glimmers: “a hole all my own . . . yes! . . . erected by my hand”
never telling its secret, I know
hidden the truth resides, lost in the vaults of a longing life
that pit that’s appeared, that blight on my barren soul
. . . it fell short of its mark!
(This non-rhyming descriptive reflections was intended to describe, in a descriptive way, how I felt the day I wrote it. It describes a a problem I feel, so it describes a conflict. It refers to how I feel I am not doing as well as I’d like in life. I feel, somehow, impaired in life, I feel that I have fallen ‘short of my mark’.)