The rainbow contuined to following them,
And the boy sat in his room, playing his records.
He had been digging for somethimes, looking for something,
Though he wasn't quite sure for what.
When his mother came to his room,
She found him on the floor,
He sat expressionless, as if were born,
Like children sometimes are.
She melt among the scattered pillows,
She asked him if he understood the uniqueness of his life,
She explained that moments happened only once,
Like an hourglass, turned over, not able to be turned again
She said, we have been giving the life to experience,
To feel, we must be present to these moments...
Writer(s): Jean-christophe Michael Le Sao Ut, Sara Genn
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