My son
The battle for "him"
Because of "her"
"He" was kept from "me"
... For months at a time
The only way I could communicate
With "him"
Was with cotton candy
That I would leave on the porch
Of "his" relatives
So that they could give it to "him"
Powder blue was the color
No way "they" could ignore it
And not give it to "him"
I even earned a phone call from "him"
Thanking "me"
For the powder blue cotton candy
"He" even snuck in "I love "you""
And
"I miss "you""
Now every chance I get
I cherish the time spent
Even though its not a lot
The "powder blue"
Is the tradition
That "we" do
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