I Don'T Want
I Don’t Want
I don’t want my boy to grow up,
I don’t want my child to age,
I don’t want his hair to thin and grey,
or fear a war we wage.
I don’t want for him to need a job,
work each day to pay the bills,
I don’t want him feeling aches and pains,
I don’t want him taking pills.
No need for him to feel the pain,
that love and living brings.
I want him to sleep late each day,
and strum his guitar strings.
I want my boy to stay a child,
and be forever young.
No care or worries about anything,
just all day having fun.
I don’t want to cheat him out of life,
the joys of wife and children,
but the worry that this life creates,
makes peace of mind forbidden.
I don’t want him worrying about his health,
or job cuts at the office.
To his heartbreaks and his tragedies,
I won’t be an accomplice.
I don’t want him waiting up all night,
for his kids to come strolling in.
I don’t want him counting the days until
his retirement can begin.
I don’t want him worrying about how he’ll pay,
for tuition, lights and heat.
I don’t want him trying to feed five mouths,
with just one piece of meat.
Transforming into cats and dogs,
like kittens and puppies grow,
everyday my boy grows taller,
a trend not about to slow.
His voice keeps getting deeper,
too soon he’ll be a man,
small hints of teenage attitude,
but he still holds his daddy’s hand.
c Copyright 2007
Copyright © Tom Beaudet | Year Posted 2008
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