The Story of A Tin Man

When our kids grow old
I’ll tell them about an experience
On love & how it should be taken care of
I’ll recount the image of a person I used to know so well
“I know you like the back of my hand”
Is what I would say in a sincere smile to their eager faces
I would recount the endless nights I’d stay up in his car
Talking on multiple subjects
I would tell them the multiple pregnancy scares at the age of 20
I just hope they don’t ask if it was their father
Because it wouldn’t & it never was
But, I’ll tell them it was about a man
So genuine and poor on the premises of love
Who grew so cold and bitter at touch
And at the end when I tell them how bittersweet the dream of love faded
They’ll look at me with tears in their eyes
I’ll press my lips on their foreheads
Tuck them in
“There’s always going to be that one love in your life. And it happens only once. You just don’t know it, until it ends”