The Beginning of the End - A Poem
I found this poem in an old journal. Since I'm packing things up for yet another move, I thought it was a sweet, appropriate poem. Not my best, but definitely timely.Â
The boxes are gone, the rooms stand
alone.
And all that's left is what we brought.
All that's left is you and me.
We traveled from sea to beautiful shore and all that we've got is
all that we have.
All that's left is you and me.
Yet all that is neededÂ
is all that is left.










