My Boy

Little Boy, lays in bed, dreams appear inside his head
He wants to be a man instead, and travel to the moon

Zorro’s sword is in his hand, He’s fighting in a foreign land,
He’s playing in a rock and roll band, He’s going to the moon

He’s Botham just about to bowl, He’s putting at the 18th hole.
He’s scored the Cup Finals winning goal, He’s going to the moon

He’s running an Olympic Race, He’s driving in a police car chase,
He’s a Monster with a gory face, He’s going to the moon.

To me you are the Number One, when all is said and all is done
I will make your dreams come true my son, and I will take you to the moon
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Brown Avatar
December 24, 2010 at 5:02 AM
Great write. I can tell that you're a great dad!
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