Poem

Bullet and Target

The guns are loaded,

the target in it's place.

My secrets were unfolded,

I can no longer hide my mistake.

I found myself running,

Not from the sound but to it.

A thousand more steps in the wrong direction

I was going to get shot down and I knew it.

I found myself between a bullet and target.

My bad decisions were the aim.

I tried but I couldn't forget,

I'm feeling more and more to blame.

I still had time to make it out alive.

Why didn't I stop and turn around?

Because I couldn't hear the warning.

The gun shots were too loud.