Spring comes to the forest of fear. People change, without shedding a tear. I sit alone, on my branch way up high. I'm out of their reach. Even as they try to teach. I'm watching all of life's lessons fly by.
Maybe I'll come down. Feel my feet on the ground. But I don't see any good reason below. I'm still stuck in this tree. I'm afraid to be me. I'm just waiting for the winds of change to blow.
