There were cold times

When I remember the old times

Word spoken at the wrong times

That left my heart broken many times


Drawings

There were rough nights

I lay woke like a knight

Watching over the little saint

As he slept like an angel

The were times I waited

For your return with hope so high

That the little saint might have all the love in the world

Given to him by the two that produced him

Seems to me they are nothing but wishes

That are far beyond reach

As the old times might never be.

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