At birth the gun was fired
and I expelled from the comfortable chamber
fated for an unknown bullseye
one I could not perceive
Through my life I erratically spin
still not knowing of my final destination
almost afraid that I have been poorly aimed
and that I will badly miss where I should be
I have ploughed through many obstacles
and hundreds more stand in my projected path
threatening to deflect my flight
or to halt and absorb completely
No matter what happens I will fall
when my momentum is no more
hoping to be melted down and recast
ready to be fired again when ready
for another shot at life
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