Regrets and Mistakes

Then I flew, and now I cry,
For a mistake, that is now making me die,
I'm trapped, as a punishment, in the dark,
I try to remember, the games I played in the park.

Red, blue, and green lines, I saw on a stack of papers,
I was hungry and I thought them wafers.
Sarcastically, they lied alone,
Out the prison, they were ready to be blown.

At an end, a beam of light struck it and me,
As if, it was from heaven, telling a way to flee.
It was glittering those papers and it caught my eye,
Despite of being my inspiration, I said it goodbye.

Now I'm out and I'm delightful,
But I'm gloomy, for the papers in the dark,  which were helpful,
The grief has made me realize my mistake,
I swear, I'll always fill the help's blank space.

— Shantanu Shubham