FOOTPRINTS
Walking the path
of greatness unshod. Fat
blooming thorns caressing,
scornful stares spiking.
Your nights, my days
overly flawed my ways.
Paw-prints on scrolls
as ink from pen flows,
filling the lacuna of the blind
permanent impression left on their minds,
like Buzz Aldrin on the moon.
Your time shall be done soon,
what shall you be known for?
This is what I have to show for.
Future generations tracing my track ways,
timeline in gold, brass or clay?
Deeds of our prime,
etched on the sands of time.
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