Bob Dole
10-25-2008, 10:38 AM
I don't particularly like this one very much. I'm not even sure why I wrote it. It just came to me while I was laying down.
A man was stricken
He had a well paying job
A loving wife
And three beautiful children
He questioned his fate
And went out to think
A walk through the park
To help him relax
A midsummer evening storm
Rolls over the skies
Rain dripping off his face
He heads for home
Yet he is on top of a hill.
A flash of bright fire
A loud thunder crack
A smell of singed flesh
His wife and his kids are all tucked up in bed
The children are lonely and unprotected
Without a father to kiss their sweet heads
A man was stricken
He had a well paying job
A loving wife
And three beautiful children
He questioned his fate
And went out to think
A walk through the park
To help him relax
A midsummer evening storm
Rolls over the skies
Rain dripping off his face
He heads for home
Yet he is on top of a hill.
A flash of bright fire
A loud thunder crack
A smell of singed flesh
His wife and his kids are all tucked up in bed
The children are lonely and unprotected
Without a father to kiss their sweet heads