If by chance we both make it beyond seventy-seven years old,
I will remember these words I once read to you in the coldest cold.
After my hands have crippled with old age,
and I am unable to write another thought-
Hold tight to the dreams we once sought.
When the fire within us begins to dim,
and your fear of abandonment creep in-
Keep thoughts of our laughter close.
For it was the short time spent with you that I lived the most.
So many of my first experiences came to be with you,
The feelings of belonging and contentment were all so new.
The mile-stone throughout these seventy-seven years began when you eased my broken heart.
Ending my long years will be the day you and I are torn apart.
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