Why treat life as a score-board? with pen and paper adding up the points grumbling when you fall short every dart you throw is like one in vengeance with bloodshot and greedy eyes score score score more more more
and when the mark you missed anger and shame swell in your face like one consigned to disgrace and you got terribly ******
why treat life as a source of self-satisfaction and self-glorification? you feel good like a Napoleon or Alexander The Great when those around applaud your feat and prowess
but too soon the night dissolves everyone in the bar is tired of the silly game you play enough drinks and folly for the night they start to walk away
in the dart-room you are playing a game no one does bother to care and soon enough forgets your name