Laughing Stag

What is life without meaning?

The imperfect hunt of needing to question why

My white stag taunting so dazzling and gleaning

Every arrow missing its mark with a heavy sigh

I thought knowing why would bring me joy

Joy in finally hitting that smug stag

Maybe I could go back to being a boy

Before I learned how to tag

Or maybe I miss on purpose

Because the mundane chore of hunting is the purpose

What would I feel without chasing my mark

Failure is part of my character arc

So, I’ll smirk lining up a shot

While that stag laughs in the cold morning air

Here’s to my constant plot

And that stag will never care

Maybe I should have hunted a hare