If I should have a son, someday with thick, dark hair And an easy smile I will tell him, everyday, that he is loved. I will remind him every time His knees strike the ground in defeat that he is strong and capable. Every time he comes home with a broken heart that he won’t admit to I will tell him he’s perfect. If I have son whose eyes sparkle mischievously I will remind him, the best men Got where they were not with tricks But with hard, honest work and he’ll smile cynically like his father would “Yeah, mom,” he’ll say but I’ll only smile Because I know he’ll remember. If I have a son who runs like the wind And still aches to go faster I will hand him over my pair of wings And send him flying And if he sings in the shower And still aches to be heard I will give him every whisper of my voice Until he can shout across mountains And if I have a son I will hold his baby soft hands in mine And tell him to keep those hands soft And caring. Like his father’s hands. And I will brush his hair back From the stubborn forehead And kiss the crinkled brow. If I have a son I will tell him everyday That he is a man.