In this sixth month we call June,
I know in these 30 days we wouldn't swoon.
You shall not only stand on the moon,
But shall walk steady on every dangerous lagoon.
And thank the Lord for sending you His platoon.
Not a baboon.
Maybe a tycoon.
You can decide to use a noisy saloon.
But you will always hear a cool sweat tune.
Your success wouldn't be a rune.
Even if you weren't born with a silver spoon,
Never mind, because at 12 everyone crosses noon.
Yes! Difficulties, we will prune.
And certainly my friend, you should not expect to die soon.
It is your month, it is your june.

Zirysste F. Bawt

Nyc one love the end rhymes