As We Grow Old
Who can explain the love between
two connected
souls.
More precious than rubies, and
worth more than
pirate's gold.
Beauty that's compared to a new
blooming rose as it's
petals begin to unfold.
Just as a secret that has been
promised to never be told.
As I grasp on to all of our memories
and never let go.
The same I shall do to your hand
until it's to wrinkled to
hold.
Then shall we tell other's the
story of our love.
"As We Grow old."
Copyright 2006 Tyettea Singletary
Copyright © Tyettea Singletary | Year Posted 2006
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