He bends down to kiss his wife on the head,
Whispers ‘I love you’ as leaves her in bed.
Quietly he heads downstairs to the door,
Securing his vest, as he crosses the floor.
He closes the door, locks it up tight,
Thinks to himself, ‘Will she be alright?’
He’s 2 hours late, oh where could he be?
Dinner is cold, children asleep, can’t see.
She thinks to herself, how will they get by,
If the call comes with the news, he didn’t survive.
Quietly he turns his key in the door,
Home safe and sound, but injured and sore.
He holds out his arms, calms down his wife,
The wound he bares, threatening but didn’t take his life.
They sit and discuss the close call so bad,
Grab a quick bite and head up to bed.
In silence, they lay and together they pray,
Thanking God everyday, he’s not taken away.
