Looking back in trance
Made by mystic glance
Polished by the immigrant cry
Screamed by the truly fine
Once boxed and tarnished
Now grooming independently
Was deprived by scarcity
Thinking what I have is an immunity
Lavished thoughts bewildered by simplicity
Mistook progress with mistakes
Never learned that success was perspective
Failure learned wisely
By the soul who outbloom its territory
