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Lost Days
Hush!
Nay, not a foreshadowing shot of danger
A slap of regret
Of the lost days
Denying himself a moment of gay
Standing attention with a puffed up chest
Eyes unwaveringly gazed at the target
Whilst a comrade stood at ease,
Shooting randomly with unsteady immersion.
At last,
The target
They both killed in equilibrium of time
With he, the less lost of bullets
Mission Accomplished!
A call for celebration
Yet he sighed
Feeling crestfallen for his comrade's jubilation
As he reflects on the antelopes and grasscutters killed
By the fun spree of the comrade's shots
Recounting on the gains of his comrades, he became jealous
Forgetting the bullet saved
And the discipline gained

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