I sat on the farthest bench from my parked car
Across the fluffy fields
Next to a companion i knew for only months

She leans slightly towards my ear
And points at a girl dressed in floral scarves and stones around her neck
My companion Whispers “she looks lost”

She didn't mean lost
As in direction
She meant lost
Within herself

She said that four letter word
With despite
Almost humorous was she in her tone

What is so much better about knowing yourself?
Answer me this
Would you rather?

Would you rather
Decide on the person you are now
Destroying free room to elaborate
To see new perspectives
Close your eyes and be satisfied

Or would you rather
Decide you are lost
Not let the past define you
Venture down different paths
Open your eyes wider
And blossom into the all-knowing

Being lost should never be deteriorated.
It’s those who are lost
Who find all the answers