You probably wont ever get this poem
Because i cant even get to you over the phone
i want you to know your puerto- rican princess has grew
I'm no longer seven and innocent too
I'm sixteen years old and have grown out my hair
Momma do you hear me i wish you was here
I know i wasn't no angel and i was spoiled is hell
I know i got on your nerves i can tell
momma i miss you and want to see your face
memories of you  i just cant erase
I dream about you all the time
Momma you need to know your always on my mind
I have a girlfriend that i really love
you see momma i told you i grew up
In so many ways she reminds me of you
its the little things she say and do
I think you would like her and really approve
Because if i was you i would approve too
Momma do you hear me i love you so much
I want you to hold me i want to feel your touch
One of these days we will rejoin
Face to face or over the phone

                                                   I love you momma