Window to the Past

Mirror, mirror on my wall,
sitting quietly and all,
waiting as the days roll by,
as my questions whisk you nigh.
Show me windows to the past
where my images would last.
Show me something solid, new,
something old, and something you.
Fields of green, benches stone,
forests grown, and seeds not sown.
Mirror, mirror in my mind,
show a girl not yet so kind.
Show the me of years gone by.
Show me someone so I sigh.
Play reflections to my ear.
Play a song with winds so clear.
Window hanging by my bed,
can't you break the past just yet?
Can't that innocence relieve
the harsh qualities I see?
Love me, lose me,
in between.
This is where my headache bleeds.
Mirror, mirror on my wall,
show me why I love to fall.