Still, With You (The Family We Grew)
We are not mirrors, you and I—
I chase the stars, you watch the sky.
I dream out loud, you hold things tight,
And still we make it through the night.
Your laughter fills a crowded room,
I find my peace beneath the moon.
You need the noise, I crave the still—
And yet, we walk this road with will.
We’ve shouted, cried, then softly swayed,
But never once let love decay.
Our corners sharp, our angles new—
And still, I’ve always chosen you.
Through seasons passing, fast and slow,
We built a world where roots could grow.
With tired hands and hopeful eyes,
We raised our hearts into the skies.
The sleepless nights, the sticky floors,
The little shoes behind the doors.
The scraped-up knees, the birthday cheers,
The quiet talks across the years.
I taught him fire, you taught him rest—
Between us, he became their best.
He learned that love’s not always smooth,
But in the cracks, it finds its truth.
Now silver lines your softer face,
And still you move with stubborn grace.
We may not see the world the same,
But side by side, we played this game.
And when they ask us how we knew
To hold on tight and make it through,
We’ll say, “We grew, and bent, and stayed—
And loved through all the mess we made.”
So bring your storm, I’ll bring my ground,
In every clash, we still are found.
For all we’ve built, and all we do—
I’d grow old, again, with only you.
© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
