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My Rock
It has been almost four years.
Four years ago I was in the hospital
room waiting for you to walk in.
Waiting for you to come see my broken
arm that looked like a goose neck. All I wanted
was you, my rock in life.
I wanted the guy that has been there for me for
fifteen years. The one who forgave me for goofing around
when I shouldn’t be.
The one I can tell anything to, drama or stories,
without him judging me or making fun of me.
The one who comforts me after horrible news.
Owner of the house I go to when I am to
scared to come out of the darkness and hiding
from life. The one that gives me strength.
My rock in life is the one guy I can not live
without. Who tests the guys I bring home to
see if he can trust them with his baby girl.
I cannot live without the guy that I can make
me laugh when I am sad, or the one that has
nerf gun wars with me.
My rock in life is you, the old man that can’t go
a day without talking to his little girl. That needs a hug
everytime I leave his house.
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