Meeting in the middle, never merging, forever searching for
juvenile nostalgic innocence.
No longer seeing further than what it only ever was.
Separated by growth-spurts of the mind and spirit,
Always wanting more than what it’ll ever be.
The heart never given the chance to catch up and beat as
one.
Fuse and allow the Blue and Honey gaze to penetrate the
hurdle of what will always separate.
©Elizabeth Zsamboki
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