C.H.

I wish I could let you see through my lens
The things that I could not make sense

The articles, the photos, and the parties
They would have made an impression

But my younger days are gone
And the love for things has changed

With my age comes a yearning for something more solid

I wish I could let you see through my lens
The things that I would want to make more sense

The truthfulness in your words
The love, devotion, and faithfulness in your deeds
The little ones must come first
Ours in second

These are the things that must happen
Should we come upon an agreement
All the other things come as a bonus

For when stuff comes first
The magic disappears
For when deceit takes place
All that we’ve built comes apart

Should things change in our journey
And you couldn’t stay true
These words have been spoken
And I want you to know that I hold them to be true