She is a black haired freckled faced
memory that I would have waited
many lifetimes to share a love with.

She is a tender ghost that has grown
into an adult I’ve never really known,
and even though I to have gotten old
a part of my heart still holds
onto the dream of loving her.

She no longer knows me,
and that is a tragedy
that makes me weep
grievously.

We are no longer children
who can believe in fairy tale dreams.
Neverland can not make us
immortal youths,
only death makes us
eternally young.
So, we never can
get back to that
old loving feeling again.