SWEET CHILD OF MINE

My inner-child eludes me.
She said she had to go for reasons I will later understand.
I saw her no more.

She hasn’t returned.
Do I miss her?

I do.
Not for myself.

I miss her for my children.

My children know not of her.

They long for her to play with them in their never ending world of wonder and discovery.
I wish I knew what it is like to see her, to feel her.

 

Will she come back?
Do I desire for her to be back?

My adult mind chews on the logic.

My adult mind, in its weary state, feels the exhaustion of many years of toil and sacrifice.
It knows not how to search for that space to fill.

Too tired to dream.

Too tired to imagine the experience of life with her in it.

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Google Search Image: Edited by Me
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