Noticing every trivial thing in my way
Appreciating the beauty of every other day
Not letting any moment go to astray
Not knowing if its March, April or May
That is how I'll spend the end of my days

Staying happy and telling everyone not to cry
Imagining the beauty of life hereby
Thinking about the view above the sky Talking to the cats, bees and butterflies
That's how I'll be if I know I'm gonna die

Although I'll be sad I'm not gonna be here anymore
But good memories will be the only thing I'd care for
Those days were indeed special when the rain started to pour
My life in this world is something I adore;
and
so are the days I have left, be it one, two three or four.