Suppose Poem

Suppose 

I never get my house in the woods.

That has the clover lawn out back.

With wooden beams in the kitchen to dry herbs from.

And a little fireplace in the living room.

I never get to see the glinting of golden gates in the clouds.

I won’t go fishing with my Father again.

I won’t go on another walk with my Mother.

I won’t get to have a late night talk with my little sister again.

I have you.

And suddenly everything else fades.

If I don’t see the gold of the gates in your eyes 

Is it really worth it?