cold
P
Parallel lines on the strip
Takes me on the trip
A journey of highs and lows
Journey of dullness and glows
From the first beat and the kick
Happiness sprinkle in the days of sick
As soon as it grows inside
The mother in me swells with pride
The juvenile turns and twists
The gust of anger the movements of fists
The cord that connects us in the holy bond
Is matrimony in heaven of womanhood and a mom
It grows from a dot to a lad
Responding to the voice of his dad
One, two seven and eight
The time passes slowly, I can’t wait!
But god has a plan for my raven
He holds him back in the heaven
The time comes for us to hold
A little, soft, baby that is cold!!
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