My Son

My Son My son walks this earth, a troubled lad, No help, kindness, understanding to be had He has become just a shell Each day for him a living hell. Somewhere along his journey path He lost love, hope and the ability to laugh He smoked cigarettes and drank, Then even lower he sank The nasty drugs it seemed Eased his inner pain, but made him mean. No money left for clothes food or rent Every penny on drugs he spent. He couldn't get work, only the dole So he borrowed, sold and stole He did the crimes, and served the time Release time arrived and same old tale, No place to rent, no jobs if you're been to jail What a relief it woul be to say, 'My Son he is black or he is Gay' Instead for the rest of my life Every time he gets into strife Like a loaded runaway train, I too, will feel his pain. Love isn't enough it would seem To keep us all focused, good and clean Some of us stumble and fall As others will rise and stand straight and tall Please just for a moment today Could you just hope and pray For My Son and others on the troubled path Pray that some day they will again love and laugh