Before you came, I was so broken,
A soul adrift, no path outspoken.
Left behind when I was just nine months old,
To grandparents' arms, the truth untold.

From house to house, I chased a dream,
Of books and light, a steady stream.
But each goodbye carved out a scar,
New friends, new roads, a world too far.

I loved, I left—not by my choice,
But life moved on without a voice.
A vagabond with aching feet,
No bed to claim, no heart to greet.

Faces blurred—one, two, then more,
I lost the count, I shut the door.
Dark alleys whispered in my ear,
And holy walls still bred my fear.

I tried to kneel, to be devout,
But even there, I found my doubt.
Obedience broke where I stood,
I knew I couldn't, though I should.

I held no knife, no wish to kill,
Yet rage ran deep and deeper still.
I loved and lost—not once, but thrice,
Each heart I held turned into ice.

One left to chase another man,
One chased a dream, no room to stand.
And one twin smiled, her heart so fey—
But not for me, she turned away.

So when you came, you found a shell,
A man who’d lived through shades of hell.
But in your eyes, I saw the light,
You touched my soul, you held me tight.

You didn’t flinch, you didn’t run,
You stayed when all the rest were done.
You saw the cracks, and still you stayed,
You helped me heal, you gently prayed.

How could I not love you so?
When you saw depths no one would know.
You built me up from shattered stone,
And made this wandering heart your own.