I've been up through many a night rocking a babe-in-arms. I've also spent many a night worrying about that same babe, now a teenager. And I've been to the cemetary one too many times when I had to bury my only son - healthy, strong, 28 years young - minding his own business, not breaking any laws, not hurting anybody - just going to work and coming home - murdered in a senseless act of violence for absolutely no reason at all. Now I live in a place that is dark and cold, and I just want my son to come home.
