Maybe things need to die, fall or break off to let the new, stronger pieces grow. To let them come in. To make space. And the other pieces are dead, just dead. They can’t re-grow. They can’t live again. They’ll eventually turn to dust. And be nothing.
The new pieces will be in their place, and everyone will be distracted by those, their newness, their shininess. Why is it so difficult to let them go, they’re dead anyway.
Too bad, but it’s the life you lead
You’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you’re wrong
You know you can’t always see when you’re right (you’re right)