Words leave much to be desired,
desolate and blank, yet sometimes fruitful.
Words are bullets tossed and flung in the dark,
hoping to hit whatever mark they hope to hit.
When they miss, we are left regretting our course of action.
When they hit, we regret hitting someone with it.
Words are blank when left purposeless,
though sometimes we'd rather miss our mark so we don't hurt anyone.