The mother to his children
The apple of his eye
The races we finish together
For in the end we always tie
The right hand to his glove
The bones in his back
The strength to his weakness
In each department he lack
The sugar in his coffee
The music to his ears
The fixing of his errors
The calmness to his fears
The caterer to his needs
The straightway to his path
The quenn of his throne
The warm water to his bath
The honey to his dew
The tickling to his laugh
The blessing of living life
Because I'm his other half
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