Everything seemed to be waning,
and I feel like I’m failing.
There’s always a thought of going back,
but that’s not the properly life hack.
The fields were rich and growing,
even if each day was tiring.
Yet I chose to travel away,
because the toiling was so hard for me to stay.
Until such time where flowers grew,
and I felt like I stopped being blue.
The flowers bloom slowly,
I must live fully and freely.