Marveling at mutual devotion and unending love. |
I sit in wonder for myself and think of what's happened to me. Close my eyes with a worried face; how have I gotten this lucky? I am not near the perfect man. Many things I've done were shady, mean or stupid or downright wrong; undeserving of my lady. And though she's on my every word, she won't heed just a single sound of my voice when I try to say that I don't make the world go 'round. She worships and she praises me, even marvels at my success. She doesn't know the things I've done; she refuses to see the rest. I'm no saint with a heart of gold. I can't pretend I ever was. There's no level that I could reach to be deserving of her love. I'm sure as hell no Prince Charming, the diamond she believes she's found. I don't think I can make her see that I don't make the world go 'round. And though it truly breaks my heart to see injustice everyday - the "all" she gives, the "some" I return - there's really nothing I can say. Because I need her all the time, to know she loves me, that she cares. I need to gaze into her eyes, to run my fingers through her hair. She gives me all the strength she has to do the best she knows I can. She gives me all the love I need. She gives me courage to be a man. She has been everything to me, freeing me from chains that had me bound. For me, there's not a single doubt, it's her that makes this world go 'round. |