There are few people I enjoy beating
Quite like myself
A missed period at the end of a sentence
A different data point on a graph
The wrong email to send
The incorrect setting on whatever it may be
It all hits you suddenly like
A putrid wind and lodges
Deep in your chest
Where it forms a solid mass that
Breaks into jagged pieces that
Permeate through every
Pore of your being
But don't worry
The wind will pass and
Jagged pieces will meld into
Skin
You will learn from your mistakes
The path to change
And in effect learning
Is hard and rigorous
And the victories at the end of each path
Will be brief
But they are necessary
And then
When you finally get it all
It will all be over
But
Hopefully you will
Have spent some of your time
Leaving trail markers for others
Bright paint on a trunk
A stack of rocks
A brightly colored piece of fabric
As they traverse the same paths.