There was a time when you weren’t real

Our dreams and lives apart.

At twelve you moved next door to me

And roped my wild heart.

We dreamt and planned our future lives

Of kids and jobs we talked.

When high school ended, then I left

Two different paths we walked.

Divorce and drugs plagued my life

You found me as a mess.

You held my scars, embraced my pain

My war wounds did you dress.

After sixteen years, we have a life

that we could not have planned.

We are not rich, but made six kids

You’re the anchor for this old man.

If we never get to live the dreams

Of our youthful days,

At least we have the longest love

Guiding us on our way.