The little man that I look on,
won’t understand until he’s grown.
Until he lays eyes on his own,
when the nighttime toy casts light and sound.
I pray to that night so far ahead,
when my boy – now a man – raises his own instead.
And to remember that future when tomorrow I wake,
and relish the time that for granted I take.
tankmajor
September 25, 2014
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