Three little children play in the park.
A skipping rope makes them jump.
A little drop in the sea evaporates,
sadly, leaving the rest behind.
The children sing a song untill dark.
Their hearts don't know how to hurt.
The drop clings on to a clowd
and turns from white in to grey,
no time to play.
The children feel a chill on their spine.
A clowd stole the sun,
it was yours and mine.
The drop went higher and higher.
Out of fear it starts to cry.
It doesn't want to fall,
it might die.
Three little children run home.
The first rain drops warned them for more.
A tree will do for now.
The park doesn't look like the minute before.
The little drop is tired and has to let go.
A long fall next to soulmates takes them
where faith wants them to go.
The children look at a puddle on the ground.
The drops are save and saund.
The puddle gets to big
and the drops float to the creek.
The little drop survived the fall
and wants to forget about it all.
In the creek he can recover because he feels week.
Three little children walk home after the rain.
They played, they didn't fall, they had no pain.
The litlle drop is carried by the creek to sea.
The only place he really wants to be.
Like home to the children, you and me.