Today, last year, it was all about us,
And today, this year, it isn’t.
We are not bearing the gifts you are waiting to receive, or giggling as we blow your balloons.
They think they’re so lucky finding you,
And they are.
Anyone is lucky to have you,
But you were ours first.
For a time, I thought that would be infinite,
But the clock has struck midnight,
And the sun will be rising soon,
Shining on you in their embrace
Literary Musings 