After my departure from the house,
Once I owned and proudly walked in,
My children will find me
In the dinning room on a chair
Occupied by someone else,
in the dancing rain on the floor,
In the graden playing with them,
On the road holding their fingers,
In the bed drinikng coffee and sneezing
In the ****** winter,
At the doorway calling their names.
Then, they will lose themselves
And merge with me forever.
Who will find them?
The new generation,
busy on watsaap and facebook?
There must be some parameters.
The golden footprints we must leave
for them to search for us when are lost in dust.