Rohan, the poet

A few days ago:

Rohan - "The days die.."
Mamma - "Uh?"
Rohan - "The days pass, and they die."
Mamma (a little anxious) - "Well, I guess you could say that.. Does it make you sad?"
Rohan - "No."
Mamma - "???"
Rohan - "Only the other days are sad, those that haven't passed, because their friends are gone."

Another time:

Rohan - "Mamma, you are the yolk of the egg!"

This is clearly a metaphor, which makes me proud. Whether it is also a compliment, I am still pondering.

Yet another time, when he was smaller:

Rohan is crying. We try to wipe his face. He says, angry: "Don't take my tears away! I need them!"