…Then he said,
He was just leaving.
May be I should be forgiving.
May be he is a bad father,
May be I should talk my mother…
I smiled:
I have my son,
I have my King.
Two years no money,
Of course, money is not everything.
I smiled:
I have my son,
I have my King.
People asked me,
Why I always wear same clothes,
Why I sold my mother’s ring?
I smiled:
I have my son,
I have my King.
One time when I was standing near the last fire line,
God wiped my tears softly and smiled:
You have your son,
You have your King!
