“You’re not wrong,” my son says, as he strokes his black goatee,
“Mom, stay strong,” my son says. With those eyes, he looks like me.
Broadened shoulders, lengthened legs, he sure is stretchin’ out!
He usually dons a shirt and tie because he likes the clout.
“You’re not wrong,” my son says, as he drinks a gulp of tea
Plain white rice and sushi are his favorite things to eat.
“You’re not wrong,” he says to me, thinking critically,
though he’s all grown up, he’ll always be my baby sweet.