I woke this morning to the light of the day.
Watching the young breeze, harps it's leaves to those little words I couldn't say.
Out of my room, hearing the last words of the dying moon.
It's blur view sends my melting heart, another dew.
The struggles of morning, growing like a seed.
Sprouting it's first leaf, spreading roots like an eagle's wing.
The moon gives life to the morning,
Why must one die, for one to live?
It's quite hurting.

And lights, just like my grandparents and now, my parents seem like they're slowly fading.
Hiding onto me with the sun's setting.
I wear courage like a shield,
Holding on the last part of this field.
Looking back to my home,
I find my children flipping through a mighty tome.
'Come to us, Daddy! Explain the raise and fall of Rome!'
And I smile, knowing fully well,
The little things in life, I'd never tell.

And someday, my footsteps would fade, like the settling sun.
My smiles would die, when the sun would cease to burn.
My skin would crumble, and everything left of me would be none.
Except my beloved daughter and son.
But maybe... Just maybe, along the line,
Some little things would make them smile.
It might take so long, but once in a while.
I hope they never forget these little things in life.