When fingertips fail to meet
what's on the other side,
Hearts grow fonder
for what is not in line.

That's why people adore the moon,
Its distance glows in their eyes.
To see and not touch,
To love but not loved back.

When blessings dwell within our grasp,
We forget its value to our soul.
Possession breeds neglect,
If you are not mentally honed.

I wished to be a gem,
coveted and cherished.
But I was mere currency in wealthy hands,
Greedy enough to want, but carelessly spent.

I understand why others departed,
seeking what cannot be held.

I was too accessible,
Too present,
Too commonplace,
Too there.

Let me be a comet like Halley's,
striking fast, passing by.
Eluding the touch they seek,
My value amplifies.
© Myth