Fourteen years of struggle build toward a single moment of triumph here. The speaker looks back over a long stretch of rebellion, missed targets, and unanswered questions, and then lets it all give way to a short, joyful announcement: "I finally made it!"
The repetition of "Fourteen" at the start of each line makes the years feel heavy and slow, like a count the speaker has been keeping for a long time. The lines are also honest about the mess. There are "aimless shots at life," questions with no reasoning behind them, and chances that came with regrets attached. Nothing is tidied up or made to sound noble. Then the pattern breaks. The poem says the moment is "finally here," and the final line arrives as a burst of relief.
The mood moves from weary and restless to proud and release-filled. The speaker seems to feel that the payoff is real, and that the wandering was part of the road. The poem doesn't say what "made it" means, which leaves the achievement open for the reader to fill in.