You wait for a chance of maturity.
I wait for a moment of innocence.
I see the offerings now.
Your childlike enthusiasm drives me nuts.
I don’t believe in fairy tales any more.
Maybe, I never did.
My childhood passed in an instant.
I hardly noticed.
Yours never ended.
I learnt to tackle the world too soon.
You are still finding your own voice to speak up.
Like mirrors of great chances, we stand in front of each other,
reflecting possibilities for a new a beginning.
We move on.