Missed Opportunities (Part 1 - Shooting At Stars) Poem by Dylan Attard

I didn't realise I was fighting for my own independence,
For an existence without another,
Where I would be my own brother,
A place where I was alone.
I don't mind being lonely of course,
If only such a place could be real,
Maybe I wouldn't feel so heart broken.
Please take this token,
Of my appreciation of your manipulation,
Because we are all a deck of cards in this messed up situation,
Love falls too hard until you shatter on the pavement,
Sorry that's a mistake,
Or this was all just a little bit too fake,
Well that's an understatement.
What I mean't to say was that I'm sorry,
Not sorry,
Just horny.
Wishing I could take back the regret that I kept us a secret,
From myself at the very least,
Before we decided to unleash the beast,
Upon this earth or the hearth,
By the fires of our desires,
But God only knows above and below bellows my soul for Satan,
Missing my brother Nathan,
It's funny how those words rhyme,
All that's out of place is out of time.
My head is an empty space looking for something to fill it or kill it,
Whichever comes first by the end of this verse.
Restructure,
I'm tired of thinking about the other guys who trucked her,
At least it rhymes with trucked her,
I wouldn't know I was left on the sideline,
Running straight down the blindside,
Cruising past your house in my Skyline,
Because you are as home as much as you are mine,
Which is not at all, you are his.
And we are no longer kids.
Sometimes when you shoot for the stars,
You miss.