Dear ghost,
I was at fault. I was stretching towards the sun too much. I admired the rose too much. I did not like the reflection too well.
It wasn't me. It wasn't me. I was just trying to be.
The rays of your light covered all that I saw and I too craved to have a little bit of ray. I was so envious. I still am.
There is a river in the woods that shows me a reflection so close to my heart. I must venture and find that river. The river will remind me of what I used to be.
Yours