So you asked me to write you a poem
or poems rather.
And although I fear it will be subject to
All the inadequacies of my previous verses
I sit hoping that maybe the sentiment—
just this one time
Is enough to carry you where you belong.
I can foresee countless hours and trials
ahead of me
Plagued by failures and miscommunications
And occasionally—I think—that maybe there is
A future with just one clear thought—feeling
that might be enough.
Of course, I doubt my ability to repay you.
But, I sense, you don't ask me for equalization
Just a thought, or sentiment that will
take you one more step.
And so it is with me, still here, subject to
your travels,
Holding your hand because I'm not strong enough
to walk the lead,
Giving you everything so that you may fight
one battle for two
And wishing, perhaps, that I could have been the one
Well enough equipped to draw the sword.
But, please, call on me when you can’t
fight for us alone.
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