Do you ever think of us,Old, pushing 60, grey haired,Fighting for the paper, sharing spectacles,Bickering over the toilet seat,Or the blanket hogging, when you're cold?
Do you ever imagine us,Beaten, tired, grandparents,Telling the kids you should have married,That kid next door, who ended up rich?And that 'i don't know what I was thinking when I siad yes'
Do you ever see us,Brittle, diabetic, sick in so many ways,
Rembering that I take my pills after breakfast and you after supper?
Panicking when Im short of breath, me, when you complain of pain in your chest?
Telling each other 'you're not going anywhere wihout me'?
And leaving this world to be with you, because I told you to wait, that I'd be there, because I'm just jealous you'll find someone else in the meantime?
Do you ever?
Because I do, and I want it no other way…
Because I love you… old, brittle, tired, maybe… but still mine, and me?
All yours, till I breathe my last
Ajwad
