Chronic

A little hand reached out to me
Already half a world away
My little hand was too scared
To travel such a distance

Much older hands took her
For good she is gone
My older hand reaches now
Too late, too far

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One thought on “Chronic

  1. Clever. Perhaps this describes the regret of an opportunity missed because of fear and uncertainty of inexperience, which, now the writer is older, is compounded by the realisation that like grains of sand falling from our hands, the opportunity is gone forever…

    🙂

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