Our Bank Of Life

Our Bank Of Life

Things to save and share,
memories, a lock of hair.
Matrimony-you on one knee,
Your wife would I be?

That old rickety, wooden bed,
each baby born-fed and wed.
Long warm days on the beach,
always believing dreams in reach.

Phographs that made us giggle,
disagreements with a niggle.
You'd say black I'd say white,
happy ending out of sight.

Trying to mend what was fractured,
was heartache manufactured.
Let's call it a day, though not all bad,
We both need to be happy-not sad.

And so we went our separate ways,
taking with us the happiest of days-
things we had saved to share,
memories, a lock of hair.