I met myself in a weed-flower field,

I met myself in a weed-flower field,
Where I no longer needed to wear any shield.
My happiness and sorrows were fully revealed,
And the scars no longer wished to be concealed.
I breathed the chilled air that was meant to be mine,
The purpose of this life, I hoped, would define.
The blue sky filled me with a kind embrace,
but the earth whispered, ‘You are confined in this space.’
A cloud echoed, ‘Are you truly blind?
You are a free soul; nothing can bind.’
The river giggled from somewhere, ‘Learn the art of living,
it has made you a little more forgiving.
So forgive your soul before forgiving others,
For only you know how much you’ve made yourself suffer.’
A tear of realization rolled down with the rain,
And I promised myself I would never do it again.”