26/07/2006
What sort of man would my son grow to be?
What sort of man would my son grow to be?
The image of his mum, or would he imitate me?
On the journey he’d take from baby to man,
What changes would he go through in that span?
Would he skin his knees and get a fat lip?
Would he climb tall trees or fall from a trip?
Would he sink like a stone, or swim like a fish?
To see my boy grow is all that I wished.
Like every dad I’m proud of my son,
There was no other like him, not even one,
He was as hard as nails and fought like a bear,
And it’s hard to believe that he’s no longer there.
My son is my hero; he fought tooth and nail,
But as the end came he just was too frail,
Though his life was short, it achieved huge things,
But his death still hurts and his absence still stings.
Written by Nigel, Bailey's daddy.
