How many times must I watch this episode?
How may times will I travel this road?
I've attampted to turn away from you,
I've tried to get rid of the roots that grew.
Yet, they still wrap their rough arms around me,
I can't unlock myself without the key.
The sky seems to shout my fears with the stars,
The moon screams my doubts all the way to Mars.
The shooting stars are my old hopes and dreams,
They reflect brightly in the freezing streams.
Only hoping to be perceived and seen,
They shine where the fish and plants tend to team.
They don't realize they're a mere reflection,
A reflection of my imperfection.
