Annie

Each night, when I’d come home from work, She’d jump out of her bed, Run down the hall, then down the stairs, Hug me and kiss my head. “Daddy,” she’d say, “I’m glad your home. I waited up for you. Oh Daddy, I love you very much. I really really do.” “Honey,” I’d say’ “I love you too. Now go on back to bed. I’ll soon be up to tuck you in.” And then I’d kiss her head. She’d have a gleam in both her eyes And a smile upon her face. It was so great to come home to A peaceful, loving place. But now each night, when I come home, There is nobody there. Nobody does run down the hall And then run down the stairs. 'Cause Annie’s life was taken by A drunk behind the wheel. The man was doing ninety when He barreled down the hill. Now, here at Annie’s funeral, My emptiness, it grows And on my angel’s casket, I Have placed a red red rose .I know that we will meet again Some day when my life’s o’er At that great and mighty Kingdom On God’s ce;estival shore. “Daddy,” she’ll say, “I’m glad you’re home. I waited here for you. Daddy, I love you very much. I really really do.”