NOT A SPOT.
This is me,
Standing on this same spot,
With owlish eyes,
Navigating all cardinal points of the earth.
Still, I’m stuck in the midst of my misses,
Then I discovered I was uncovered and displaced.
This is me,
Searching for a different spot,
Scrutinizing all cardinal points of the earth,
So, I made excuses for all my misses.
Right then; I was shot in the face,
To stop searching for things unless misplaced.
Hey! I am still here,
Fighting for a new spot,
Yet, they said it isn’t decent to,
But I do know I am no saint.
I really need to make out sense else I go insane.
All these pressures are totally now out of measure.
So, this is me.
I do not think I’ve changed much,
And I am quite tired of changing spots too.
More confused than ever with no direction.
Maybe I’m a bunch of a beautiful mess.
I no longer need excuses for my misses if I’m the misery.
Here I go again,
Am I the problem?
Or do I need to make some new spots?
Do I blame nature for these tortures?
For a fact,
I shouldn’t be displaced if I had a space.
(With a deep breathe); this is me!
The spots are not the problem neither am I.
No more changing of spots and mindless navigations.
I will take my baton and race on my lane.
With more possibilities, Faith and disciplined truth.
I will no longer let spots of procrastination, fear and pain mess me up again.
(Smiling); now this is me!
No longer displaced and uncovered.
I’ve found my space.
Now I’m covered with believe and self-acceptance.
Misinterpretation causes misunderstanding and hinders true understanding.
No wonder I was searching for a spot,
Instead of occupying my space.