Look at this colourful bunch of balloons stuck in the tree.
This is just like me.
I’m like this zesty colourful bunch of balloons.
Full of air; meant to fly.
Then, one day, not so long ago, I saw a bunch of birds, resting in their nest with their kids and so I thought maybe I needed this rest too.
I wanted to become a bird, forgetting what I actually am.
So, in this pursuit, I tried to rest on a tree but the tree held on to my strings and forbade me from flying, after that day.
Now, one by one, the balloons in my bunch are losing their air.
My colours shine still, but no one can see me. And I can no longer fly like I am supposed to.
With my air slowly escaping, I’ll go farther away from my true purpose: flying.
And one day, on this very tree, I’ll cease to be.
Oh, what a waste of my vibrant colours that couldn’t adorn the sky the way it was supposed to.
Oh, what a waste of the air in my body.
Oh, what has my existence come to, when I went searching for something against my true nature.
