She loved you anyway.
Never mind your weakness, the scars, the fear
you wore just under your thin shirt.
She loved you anyway,
with your flawed history and stumbling,
your thin hair and wounds still seeping,
hardly a hero. No knight in shining armor,
retired from the saving business,
a crazy old soldier, still fighting battles each morning,
fearing love, dancing on eggshells,
far less than he once was, learning finally
love is not a matter of deserving,
but the strength to persevere and give back
what perhaps you do not have. Certainty.
You are not photogenic. Never was. Never will be.
she loved you anyway.
About this poem.
My wife and I have been married almost three years. I am still in awe. At my age there’s a lot of history and brokeness. And yet, she loves me anyway.
Don’t tell me there aren’t miracles.