Where ever you have been my Son,
Personal battles you’ve raged and won.
Gone the bloodshot painful glare,
The lost and bitter angry stare.
Attitude of its not fair,
Replaced by loving eyes that care.
Hang your hat up near the door,
With your family rest assured,
Support and love offered and more,
In abundance we have for sure.
Unconditional? Well not quite.
A goal is set within your sight,
So Son take up with all your might.
A path that’s straight and right,
I will guide and hold you tight.
Man up and face the fight.
Breda Ware
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