Submissiveness in a Cloud

I find myself upon a cloud.
I can hardly see the ground.
It's far below me in a land that has almost drifted from my mind,
A land of submissiveness.
Where strength is a precious gem that few find,
And a lack of answers are more prominent than the freckles on my nose.
Below is a land where saying sorry is all you know how to do right.

I'm in a land where sorry doesn't exist.
Optimism is opulent.
My submissiveness from that land below still exists.
It's followed me from adolescence and it's grown as I've grown. 
It's allowed me to be crippled.
In that land below I walked with a limp that went unnoticed.

There are still cracks in this cloud and as I look below I can feel that strain in my leg.
Sometime's it's consuming and I can't explain the feeling.
Like an electric shock, but longer and more utterly unbearable.
I take the pain in silence and cover it with a smile.
A smile that if you didn't know me you'd think I was content.
You'd think that I had everything pulled together. 
A smile that has gotten me through the tundra. 

For some reason I turn my head and I see the clouds again.
I see the light peaking out from the cracks of cotton wonder,
Creating thousands of rainbows dancing upon the surface.
The pain expires.
I stand and my walk is stronger.
I follow the rainbows down an unbeaten path as they jump around me.
They twine themselves around my arms, up my legs, grasping my waist, lifting me.
My ground is nonexistent.
My limp is insignificant.
My smile is no longer abused. 
I walk again and I feel renewed.