Ms. Wendy Ngala
Mr. Ryan Ngala
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My favorite sister of the year,
Who’s destine to become victorious,
In every area of New York City.
Who clears through the entrance,
Throughout the five boroughs in all of Harlem,
I’ll always give her $5 or $10 dollars of my own money,
So she can go get herself something to eat.
Who I always put her to sleep,
In her favorite blanket,
Ms. Wendy the lovely or the most beautiful,
It’s what my Mom will always called her to be,
At least that’s who I even respect her even more.
Whenever it comes to her,
Helping me or even my brother Abel,
Washing my clothes every weekend at the Laundromat,
She will always comes and seek us for guidance,
In anyway that she likes.
Who is always so cranky,
But never yet so sloppy,
Who desires everything that she wants,
But at least she doesn’t front.
Who has dreams to become a professional singer,
Who’s always want to do better in school,
But she doesn’t act like a fool,
And she will always be the best person that she’s destine to become.
Who considers to be,
The best sister,
That I know her to become,
Who’s destine for greatness,
In every obstacle that she takes,
To make a world a better place,
In her community for herself to live in.
This is myself reciting to her,
Your number One,
Mr. Ryan Ngala.