by Tom Wyatt
Hey little boy your daddy misses you so.
Every day I ask God why you had to go.
I know I should stop asking, I’ll never
I guess so me times even little boys get
Hurt and die.
The touch of your hand, the sound of
I’d gladly given my life if I had had
But I didn’t have that option, it wasn’t
Given to me;
Now my heart is breaking, as hell its
Come to be.
People don’t know what to say, some offer
I understand and smile, they’re just
I just feel so cheated that you were
Daddy misses you baby, what else can
Father of Johnny