When I look down at my life from the rooftops,
I see colors spilling out from when I was down.
The gray took over as the truth began to pop.
But I spent so much time prodding, looking around.
And the reasons began to fade as I reached up.
The higher and further, the more I saw.
Again a witch gave me no turn to let up.
A witch of a mirror, opposite in me as I fall.
So I searched harder, lowering my tree to a seed.
A seed like me, one I could be with to be free.