Flavours
There’s a little boy with his head on his thighs,Scratching for food in the buzzing of flies,
He finds some crumbs on the dusty earth
Screaming with hunger, he tastes their worth
To find flavors on his tongue,
From shackles of hunger now he’s sprung
Over mountains with crests of snow,
With joy he begins to grow
A birds wings that fly him up to starry skies
And moonlit nights that dazzle his eyes,
He sees the deep, blue sea with awe,
He tastes the air, unafraid to fall.
His soul born upwards from that dusty earth,
Remembering the flavors of life since birth,
He finds his wings of white alive
And flies on upwards into those heavenly skies.
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