Mama, its ok
I'm glad you've never seen
how many times I've cried every ounce
of courage onto my pillow,
when I've been becoming broken faster than my phone screen
As hopefull as hopeless, your weeping willow

I love you as much as my...? shy trials to sing
Mama, we'll manage through everything

Mama, I'm glad I've never told you
why I don't like it when it's that hot
Not only 'cause I can't think and I sweat a lot
but simply because sun doesn't match my mood
Sometimes I quite like it under my hood
More than I like it with you
I'm sorry, so sorry I'll try, but I am who
I am... not exactly sure...
Written once and never used jam
Cowardly pure

But maybe silence for once won't be our king
I guess that we'll manage through everything

Hey mama good that you don't know english
'cause you'll never read this broken poem
Words harvasted and stolen,
sentences I wish I had shown
But I like you happier not worrying about me,
thank you for now

My heart's gonna bow
I guess I'll manage alone