There are alot of things that I cannot understand,
yet the thought of the simple action of holding your hand,
would mean alot to me in an hour.
In an hour I turn eighteen,
in an hour constantly my phone will ring,
yet I am sure that none of those voices will be yours.
You meant the world to me,
you I wanted to stay and not leave,
you and you alone,
and in my arms is where you belong.
There are alot of things that we did that meant alot to me,
alot that I wanted to say,
alot of points in this poem that I wanted to bring,
yet the main one was just to hear you say
Happy Birthday