Or maybe a young man?
Take him over miles of land.
Our hearts bursting with pride.
Take our boy over a long joyous ride.
He rode to his job.
His bike taking him up over that far knob.
Then he moved far away.
Whispered “God Speed,” as we prayed.
His new job was high-up.
He was proud and prepared.
Behind the garage door it faired.
I polish away the dust.
A tear would create rust.
We were so far far away.
And we searched with the Finest.
I went straight to our boy's bike.
My tears annointing his Last Rite.
a bike waits for a boy so fare.
A day dark, full of evil.
The whole world heard them tremble.
Heard screams from son's mothers.
I know cried for God's love.
I will watch His Son come from above.
When sons and daughters they will see.
And our boy peddling towards his dad and me.