Stamp your foot in the dust of time,
all that remains is a print, a memory.
Some of us stamp harder, the imprint is clearer.
Their names remembered, their deeds become history.
Their print is set, stuck in time.

Those that softly tread leave a fonder copy in the dust,
but like all faint threads they fade from memory.
Tender footprints imprint on the heart,
their tread copying the rhythm of the owners heart.
Their print is set, stuck in time, forever entwined.