Waiting

He was a little boy; just turned two, Walking at the park, with his mother in blue. To everyone he saw, this is what he'd say, "Hey! My daddy's comin' home today. He's been at the war, fighting for us, But now he's coming home in that army bus. He promised he'd come today in his letter. I used to miss him, but this will make it all better." The people would look in the mother's green eyes, They saw the pain and regret of the lies. And they knew the truth, as it is for some, That boy would be waiting for what would never come.