Michael Lee has no secrets.
His successes like raising saplings;
One person paying for all to have shade
His mistakes are fallen trunks;
Bridging chasms for all who come after
But you and me are a redwood,
Leaves scraping the heavens
Roots invading Hades;
No one can go so high and low
To see what such extremes conceal.
We are far too lofty.
Cross-Shaped Scars 
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