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My Son

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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

Copyright © beejaz north

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