Job Well Done
Momma, when you died I ask God 'Why'
He answered me quickly 'HER JOB IS DONE'
I started to cry pleading out to God
'That's my mother and I love her Dearly'.
God simply wispered close to my ear
'That's my child and I love her Dearer'.
I did'nt give up moma I CRIED out more
'I want to make her happy in life
and give her things that's nice'.