Rough silt squeezes through his toes,
Cool stream water splashing him in droves;
He smiles at the camera and laughs at his friend,
Who couldn't be cajoled to chase him in the end.
But the ball's still flying high above their heads
Entreating delirium and severing the thread
Between two worlds colliding, today and tomorrow
One, brimming with charm, the other with sorrow.
Who knows when next the sun may shine?
When the Fates of mirth may once again align?
Young boys become men before they know it,
It's the destiny of time... so why not enjoy it?