SCARS WITHIN ARE ROADMAPS TO OUR SUNSHINE!

FAILURE COMES ONLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE WHEN OTHERS SAY 'YOU WILL FAIL.'

Where flowers bloom, so does hope. They radiate smiles, spreading joy with their fragrance. Even a single rose can attract a thousand bees, tirelessly weaving the delicate harmony of nature. And yet, sometimes, the hands that hold these roses are trapped within walls, shielded by impenetrable stockades. For the conceited heart that owns the garden, beauty becomes a private pride, a treasure locked away. The world whispers, “This beauty is your own creation.”

I watched the mighty birds soar across open skies. Their offspring; like roses blooming in concrete gardens; were both radiant and lonely. Laughter was the music of their souls, a fleeting melody in a silent room. In my teenage years, I was like an orphan dwelling in chaos. Hopes felt like fragile seeds buried in barren soil. Surrounded by faceless crowds, I wandered a sea of despair. Finding solid ground seemed impossible, and the warmth of sunshine felt as distant as a thousand days' journey.

Going to school was a monotonous march, like flogging a dead horse. I crawled through life like a snail, weighed down by the burden of inadequacy. I envied the light that others carried, the glow that seemed so unreachable. Once, I lived in a world that felt orderly and bright, where I watched people flourish in their backyards. But everything changed when the light of my moon dimmed. The brokenness of my past and the veils of my uncertain future filled me with dread. Though I appreciated a select few, most people offered no hand to guide me through the darkness. My life felt like a bird with broken wings, unable to soar.

Struggling against the relentless waves of life was never easy. The harsh words of my own relatives cut like daggers, leaving wounds that lingered long after. The world around me; perched on hilltops of judgment; looked down coldly. My heart swelled with oceans of tears, carrying the weight of their disbelief. Neighbors saw no future in me, convinced my climb would lead to nothing. They pointed to the past, to failures they had witnessed, dismissing any attempt to rise as futile.

But now, I look back with gratitude. The scars etched in my heart have become the roadmaps to my soul, guiding me toward light and understanding. I once believed life was a race, but it’s not. Life is a battle; not one where we defeat others, but one where we triumph over the perceptions that tether us. It is a fight to redefine who we are, to claim the beauty and strength that are uniquely ours.

LIVE YOUR LIFE! Do not race against others; the world you build is your own creation. Life rewards us not with what we want but with what we truly deserve. Embrace your scars, for they lead you to your sunshine.