Trapped Essence

Have you ever felt like a puddle of water? Water is supposed to flow; it has to reach the sea and be with its kind. It's meant to cascade down from a hill with a splash, not to be stuck in a puddle—mixed with garbage and soil, trodden on by people, and driven over by cars. A puddle of water is never clean; it's never left to be clean. It becomes a breeding ground for mosquitoes, spreading diseases. A puddle of water is denied its rights. Now, it's worse than a drainage, filled with banana peels and plastic covers, a pothole on a highway.

Have you ever felt this way? Feeling out of place, unable to flow with your fellow mates and instead stuck with those who hold you back? Suppressing yourself and unable to fulfill your purpose. If you've felt that way, let me know. This puddle of water (me) would then at least know she is not alone, that there are others who resonate with her, feeling lost, surrounded by unkind people who don't know how to help her and instead let her change, drown in her own poisonous essence. 

So, have you felt that way?