Eight

I don’t want to wait for 
Birthdays or earthquakes
To tell you how I feel.

So I will write out my heart 
As best as my blood and tears can manage,
Forgive me if I’m not always clear at times
Sometimes I’m not always clear at times.

I’ve written poems 
For a wife I do not yet have;
Stories for children 
Someday I hope to know,

But these are miles down the road,
Moons and suns away.
I will have to travel many paths 
Before I stumble across that one.

I’ve had to stumble across many paths.

I used to think I carried the world 
On my shoulders,
And that if I stumbled and let it slip 
Everything would come undone 
And crumble to pieces.

The thing is, I stumbled, and slipped, 
And I crumbled to pieces;
But you all were there to pick me up.

But you weren’t just some pick me up. 
Here today and gone tomorrow, 
Always wondering when you’d 
Make your way back into town like the circus.

You were there for me. 

From summer grill outs
Where we thought it would never end,
To midnight kidnappings, 
Frostie runs and driving for hours, 
A hundred games of madden, 
And cheesecake multiplied by three, 
Always baking in your kitchen, 
The Saturday brunches, 
And Monday night TV.

You were there for me. 

A thousand thank-yous 
And a million tulips couldn’t do my heart justice.

Out of two decks, 
I came up aces eight times over. 

So thank you, eight times over again.