I have not walked a million miles,

Nor sung a million songs–

I have not seen a million smiles,

Nor righted a million wrongs.

I have but walked a step or two–

The rest for which you carried me through–

And songs of praise are very few;

The few I know, I raise to you.

More tears I’ve seen, and renting hearts;

We await grevously the trump’s call to depart.

A million wrongs happen with each passing moment–

But the million and first right was your last breathing moment.

For every feat we boast about,

You are our support throughout-

Even when we our hands only,

It is your who guards us wholly.