In the mid of the crops,
I was working, immensely tired.
My skin was measuring the temperature
of sun; I decide to rest under the tree.
I was feeling thirsty well so far
I lay down, air becomes heavy near my body
Because I perspired; I was thinking about
future in which I am living now.
All I have because of my past self.
I appreciate that! I want to sit with that person again
and think together but it is impossible.
My past self, the only person who did care about me
He is nowhere. Now I have a strong feeling
that my future self loves my present self.

Amisha (from future): If anyone does not like this poem, I understand. I was just a child (Not a child but 18-year-old). I am not a big fan of this poem either. 

Should I take it as a mark of embarrassment?  Well no. Maybe a bit. I hope no one gets to come this far to read this poem. If anyone makes it let me know.