When We First Met - Poem by Scott Austin
When we first met you use to pinch me and punch me because that’s what little girls do.
You use to tell me that I was stupid and things like that.
As months went by you use to tease me and taunt me because that’s what girls do.
Then one day you began to notice me for me.
You began to tease me in a different way because that’s what teenage girls do.
You began to look at me in a different way
Then we became friends that would talk each and every day
Before you know it we became more than friends
We started dating for years and years
I told you that you were the only one so many times that year
When I asked you to marry me that first time
You said we were way too young.
Another year past by when I asked you again
Again you replied we were still too young.
The day came when I left and went away to join the Army that mid year.
I was deployed so far, far away in that distant land
We continued to communicate the best way we could
This was enough for me to ask you for the third time if we could
You finally broke down and said we should this is what I wanted for the past two years
So I flew home as fast as I could before you were able to change your mind
It finally came true that clear and sunny day back there in December of eighty-three.
Now years have gone by and by we are still together for this is why
You are still my best friend and my lover that is true
We have had some good times and some bad times this is no lie
But you are always there by my side for when it means the most I don’t know why
When I was healthy and when I was sick even when we had money and then we had none
We made this commitment when we were very young you have stuck with me this is true
For this I will always love you forever and forever my only true love until my life is through.
Comments about When We First Met by Scott Austin
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye