minutes, hours and days pass by.
My grasp on reality slips,
was our love ever strong?
Is romance what makes us go,
Where is my knight upon his great steed?
Did he ever exist?
No, I think not…
Rose petals do not lead me to a silk covered bed,
and there is no oak bearing our initials,
yet I do not mind.
There is no castle stretching to the sky,
no magic kiss.
No fairy tale could compare to what our love is.
Gray hairs may emerge from our heads,
but age means nothing.
-Tiffany Renae Phelps 01/09/2014