Skyscape of Reflection

I used to think that The world was black and white, Wrong and right so clear, Clear vision of who was friend And foe, dressed in deception, They were, interchanging, breaking But then growing up again. I used to think that My plot was as any other, Other than that of the step Sisters unhappy ending, no, my Ending would be beautiful, but No, my end came in the middle, Mid-sentence before the page Paused to drink some tea. I used to think that Summer and winter never met, Yet maybe there is still a chance For change before all leaves Fall upon the lifeless ground, And yet, should sweet spring Be left out in the cold? I used to think that Hunger was for meal times, Between times, but often times Time changed all of that So that kind was a lie That lay forgotten underneath Creeping, still dark waters. I used to think that My thoughts saved me from Falling into the crevice that Quickly appeared every time I Closed my eyes, but no, my Mental power weakly falls with Words spoken softly in the dark. I used to think that Ashes were the end, lifelessly Lying underfoot; yet green can Come from the grey nothingness, New life peeking into power, After patiently waiting in warmth. I used to think that A watches’ pieces placed worth, Yet not the past, but the Beautiful Now, knowing pure hope Is heaven’s holy gift, given Generously to the fallen leaves. And so, I now know, not Think, that I am not the Pieces of my submerging past.