“Sooner or later she’ll accept me.
Sooner or later, she’ll use the @

Sooner or later she’ll come around
Sooner or later she’ll accept that I’m changing.
Sooner or later she’ll get it
Sooner or later she’ll see that I don’t like the way she does my hair. Or the way when she refers to me as her daughter, people tend to stair.

Sooner or later things will change.
Sooner or later she’ll change
Sooner or later, but maybe later.
Sooner or later she’ll notice how I like my hair shorter rather than longer.
Sooner or later my voice will sound like how I hear it in my head.
Sooner or later she’ll notice that I’m not much of a fan of dresses.
Sooner or later my hands will start to get a little bit bigger than they were before.

Before the changes I thought she would come around sooner rather than later.

Sooner rather than later, she’ll understand that my hearts breaks every time she can’t call me her son.

Sooner rather than later, I’ll understand that these drugs won’t change her mind. But that feeling that she hate me comes sooner rather than later.

Soon that later she’ll stop asking me when I’ll go back.

When her little girl with barrettes in her hair and passion in her heart was alive and well. Striving to be the most lovable thing in her eyes. But sooner rather than later, that little girl had to die, but sooner rather than later a happier little black boy emerged.

But sooner rather than later, that little black boy realized that she didn’t care about his happiness. But sooner rather than later he realized neither did he.

Sooner rather than later I realized that you probably won’t ever come around to the fact that I need to love me.

Sooner or later I’ll realize that I’m enough.
Sooner or later I’ll realize that the disrespect is too much.
Sooner or later I’ll say I’ve had enough”